


What A Wonderful World This Would Be

by Toastiel, Ttttrickster (iscatterthemintimeandspace)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Angst, Blood, Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Human AU, Incest, M/M, Mental Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicide, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Rape, Self-Loathing, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, Teacher-Student Relationship, Triggers, Underage - Freeform, Violence, beatings, cursing, everywhere, homphobia, non-con, student teacher au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastiel/pseuds/Toastiel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iscatterthemintimeandspace/pseuds/Ttttrickster
Summary: /Don’t know much about a science book/Sam had never been one to complain. He’d never been the sort to think he deserved better. At the end of the day, he just cared about surviving long enough to finish high school./Don’t know much about the French I took/Gabriel was happy. He was close to graduating college, just starting his term of student teaching, and was actually getting his life together./But I know that I love you/The universe has a funny way of bringing people together. Fate likes to take away the things we think we need and give us the things we can’t really live without./And I know that if you love me, too/Sam never wanted to want Gabriel. Gabriel knew he could never have Sam. The universe knows that all they really need is each other, and everything else will fall right into place./What a wonderful world this would be./





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All art featured in this fic was done by the amazing http://i-want-a-dean-sam-castiel-pbj.tumblr.com/

[ ](https://imgur.com/JgzUos1)

**~x~x~x~x~**

Sam sighed as his alarm went off. He reached over and slapped the OFF button with his palm as he threw back his covers with the other hand. It was still dark out, the very edge of the sky starting to lighten as he glanced out his window on his way to the bathroom. He wasn’t much of a morning person, never had been really, but there were things he had to do before school, and he didn’t want to think about what would happen if he chose to lay in bed an extra twenty minutes instead. He’d missed a chore or two in the past, and he cringed thinking about the reaction his irresponsibility had garnered from his father.

 

John Winchester was not a nice man. He was not a kind man, or a loving father. For Sam, he was little more than his sperm donor, and the sooner the seventeen year old could get out of Lawrence and away from the man, the better.

 

Sam stripped, ignoring his reflection in the mirror, and started the shower. He carded a hand through his hair, tugging out a single knot, then climbed under the steaming spray of the showerhead. He hissed softly as the water scalded his skin, aggravating the open wounds on his back. He’d almost forgotten about those.

 

John had a habit of coming home drunk, and drunk John was even less appealing than sober John. It was his own fault it had happened, really. He’d forgotten to take out the trash that morning, and his father had been stewing in his anger all day. The alcohol had only heightened his malice towards his youngest son, and when he’d gotten home, he wasted no time in pulling off his belt and administering his punishment.

 

‘Gotta remember to grab the trash,’ Sam thought idly as he scrubbed his hair and body. He rinsed and stepped out, drying quickly before dressing for the day. It was the first day of the new school year, his last year actually, and Sam was both nervous and excited. He was so close to graduating, so close to getting out of Lawrence and away from his father and the memories and the pain. Still, he had the better part of nine months to struggle through before that could happen. He’d thought of saying screw it and leaving when he turned 18, but what difference would two weeks make? He wouldn’t be 18 until the 2nd of May, and graduation would be on the 19th. At least if he waited the two extra weeks, he’d have a diploma to show for all of the hell he’d been through.

 

Sam stumbled as he tugged on his faded jeans, the heels walked off and frayed, the knees looking threadbare. He struggled into a dark green tee, then tugged a grey and black flannel shirt over that. Last came his boots. They were worn and scuffed, had certainly seen better days, but they were his favorite, and most comfortable, pair. He snatched his backpack from his desk chair, stuffed his cell into his pocket, and headed down to fix himself a quick breakfast of cereal.

 

It took him almost an hour to eat, take out the trash, and wash the dishes left over from dinner the night before, and he cursed himself when he realized that if he didn’t leave right then, he’d be late for school. In a flurry of flailing limbs he hadn’t quite yet mastered moving, Sam ran from the house, locking the door behind him, and hopped on his bike.

 

His motorcycle was probably the one thing he owned that he wouldn’t leave without. It had been a gift from his brother two years before when he’d gotten his permit, and they’d restored it together in their garage. When he finally got his license, Dean had surprised him by having the whole thing repainted, the chrome shined to perfection. Not long after, Dean had moved out, wanting to be closer to work, and secretly Sam knew farther away from John. They still spoke most days, and Dean would stop by for dinner once in awhile, but it wasn’t the same, and Sam couldn’t help but feel somewhat abandoned by his older brother.

 

With a shake of his head, he shoved his helmet on, started the engine and took off, the door of the garage closing behind him.  

 

He made it to school with mere minutes to spare, parking his bike and hurrying into the building just as the first bell rang. Being awkwardly tall had its advantages from time to time, Sam thought as he pushed his way through the throng of students. Most of them just stepped aside, afraid of being squashed by the local giant. He made it to his first class as the second bell rang and slipped silently into a seat at the back of the room, trying for all the world not to look as though he’d just run a marathon. His breathing was coming out in labored pants, and he could feel the flush on his face and neck as he tried to will his heartbeat to slow to something of a normal pace.

 

By the time the last bell rang, he was bent over, his face buried in his arms and his hair splayed over the desktop. He could just about fall asleep right then, but he knew Mr. Singer would probably flay him alive for daring to think of it. Instead, he forced himself to sit up, though he slumped in his chair, trying to make himself as small as he possibly could manage. Being less noticeable meant the teacher didn’t call on you as much, and that was fine by Sam. Science was certainly his weakest subject, no matter how hard he tried to understand it. Avoiding being called on when he knew he could never possibly have the answer was exactly what Sam wanted. He was so focused on not being seen that he failed to notice the new guy standing up at the front of the room with Mr. Singer.  

 

Gabriel never remembered being excited for the first day of school in his life, but today was the exception. Maybe it was because he wasn’t the one sitting behind a desk for endless hours listening and taking notes, for once, he was the one standing up and teaching it. Well, not on his own, but it still counted in his mind. Today was his first day of student teaching, and he was determined to do his best.

 

Gabriel wasn’t the most observant of people sometimes, but it was hard not to notice someone as tall as the boy who had just walked in, especially when they were trying as hard as he was not to be noticed.

 

He would have gone over to say hello, but Mr. Singer had walked in, and Gabriel had been warned about the older man’s punctuality and no-nonsense attitude.

 

“Good morning, Class,” Mr. Singer said, his voice booming off the white walls of his chemistry classroom. “This year, we’re gunna try something new. We have a student teacher from the University, who will be helping me out. Mr. Novak?”

 

Gabriel stepped forward, offering a smile to the class. “Uh yeah, Hi,” he stammered, grinning even wider in his nervousness. “I’m Gabriel Novak, You can call me Mr. N, or Gabriel, if you’d like.  I’m a junior over at the University and I’ll be helping mostly with tutoring, so if you need help, I’m your man.” He looked over at Mr. Singer, who nodded and began his lesson.

 

“Now we’re gunna start with an Introduction to Chemistry…”

 

Gabriel stopped paying attention halfway through the second line of Bobby’s spiel. Instead he began to watch the students in his class, trying to learn all their faces. The names would come later, but he wanted to know now who was paying attention, who were the overachievers in the class and who were those who would really need his help.

 

The tall boy he’d noticed before had picked his head up, and he had brilliant hazel eyes. His posture told Gabriel that he was interested in what was being taught. He took notes quickly, his pen crossing the page without breaking his concentration on Mr. Singer. But there was something else in the way he sat that had Gabriel pausing on him, when he should be moving to another student. He held himself away from the chair, as if it pained him to lean back against it, and his clothing had seen better days.

 

Gabriel didn’t want to make any rash judgements, but something in the boy cried out to him, something he couldn’t shake. Still he forced him to look at the girl sitting next to him, and then the boy next to her until he had looked at every single one of his students in turn.  He cataloged them as Bobby droned on about Chemistry, but he kept coming back to the tall boy in the back of the room.

 

When Bobby was finished, Gabriel helped him pass out their lab workbook, and then Bobby handed him the list of their lab partners to read out loud.

 

Blake, Sarah became lab partners with Braeden, Lisa and so on and so forth until they reached the end of the roster, and there were only two boys remaining, the tall boy and a boy who bore a striking resemblance to a manic squirrel.

 

“Winchester, Samuel,” Gabriel said, and finally the tall boy raised his hand. “You’re with Zeddmore, Edward”

 

Sam didn’t say a word, just sighed and nodded his head in acceptance, as he got up from his seat to sit as his lab table with his new partner. Gabriel noted how gingerly he moved, but he couldn’t decide whether it was from an injury or whether he was just sore.

 

Bobby had set up a simple experiment for each group, setting out whipping cream, milk, vanilla sugar, thermometers and ziplock bags. In the sinks next to them, were bags of ice. The experiment was an easy and enjoyable one, one specifically for the first day of school. Making ice cream in a bag was right up Gabriel’s alley, and he joined each group for a bit just to observe.

 

Most groups were chatty, having known the people next to them since kindergarten, but Sam was completely quiet.

 

Gabriel walked over to the side of their table to observe.  Ed had already dove into the experiment with the gusto, grabbing for the lab supplies as he babbled on about some paranormal club he was in. Sam was nodding politely, but he didn’t seem to be adding to the conversation at all, simply letting his partner natter on without interjecting.

 

“So boys,” Gabriel started as he watched Ed work. “You should be taking temperatures every five minutes. Ed, why don’t you let Sam man the thermometer?”

 

He offered a smile, but Sam didn’t seem very happy with it. “Thanks,” he muttered, taking the instrument from Ed. The two boys returned to their experiment, with Ed barely taking a breath before launching into his tirade again.

 

The rest of the class period flew by without incident. All of the lab groups ended up with passable ice cream, although Gabriel always preferred chocolate. They handed in their lab worksheets with barely a word to Gabriel, instead chattering with their friends. Even Ed had broken away from his lab partner, pairing up with Harry Spengler, who seemed to share his enthusiasm for the supernatural.

 

Sam was left alone as he packed his books and notes into his bag. He was the last one to hand in his worksheet, and Gabriel tried to catch his eye, but Sam wasn’t biting.

 

He handed in his worksheet without another word, and shrugged into his backpack.

 

“Have a good day, Sam!” Gabriel tried, but the boy was out the door with nary a backwards glance.

 

“Don’t take it personally,” Bobby added from the corner of the lab where he was packing up some supplies. “Kid is just quiet. I’m friendly with his old man. Been that way since his momma died when he was little. Boy wouldn’t say boo to a goose.”

 

Gabriel frowned, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know Sam, or any of the other kids, but something about it wasn’t sitting right with him. Still, it wasn’t his place to correct him, at least not until he figured out what was really going on.

 

He walked over to one of the lab tables to help Bobby clean up the mess that had been left behind. Who knew high school kids could make such a mess? He grabbed a sponge from one of the sinks and wiped the tables down as Bobby began to set up for their next class. They had one more period before lunch and then one after.

 

“I wouldn’t worry about Sam,” Bobby said, looking at Gabriel’s face. “He’ll be alright.”

 

But Gabriel wasn’t so sure.

 


	2. Chapter 2

[ ](https://imgur.com/HZswiab)

It was a mere two weeks into the school year, and already Sam was convinced that he was going to fail. The only classes he wasn’t struggling with were English and History, and he knew that was because it was all about reading. He was starting to fall behind in Calculus, and while he took the notes and understood the theories, he just couldn’t get the problems to work out the way they were supposed to. Chemistry was, by far, the worst. He was already so far behind, he doubted he’d ever catch up, and no matter what he did, none of what Mr. Singer and Mr. Novak taught made any sense to him. 

It didn’t help that he barely had time to do his homework, or even study. He’d been keeping up with his chores, doing his best to stay under his father’s radar whilst silently praying he’d come home every night too tired to look at him, much less beat him for some perceived slight or another. 

Sam sighed heavily as he climbed off of his bike and strapped his helmet to the handle bars. He was early, for once, and figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least try to work on the homework he’s skipped the night before in order to do the dishes after dinner. He shrugged his backpack up onto his shoulder and made his way towards the chemistry classroom. ‘Hopefully,’ he thought, ‘there won’t be anyone there and I can just fail in silence.’

It wasn’t until after he’d taken his seat that he realized his prayer had most certainly not been answered. Gabriel Novak, the student teacher they’d been stuck with from the university, was sitting behind the desk at the front of the room, munching on cereal. Sam wasn’t sure if he’d seen him, or even noticed he’d come in. He looked like he was grading papers, or maybe writing one, the teenager couldn’t be sure. 

Maybe he could just slip back out and hide in the library for a bit? It sounded like a solid plan, so Sam gathered his bag and stood, making his way towards the door as silently as he possibly could.

“Not so fast, Sammy,” Gabriel looked up from the paper he was writing for one of his own classes. He’d been so consumed in helping Bobby grade papers that he’d been neglecting his own work. Despite his devil-may-care attitude, Gabriel did actually care whether or not he passed his classes, and since the bill was all on him, he had to make it count. “We need to talk.” 

It was barely two week into the semester, and already Sam’s grades were not looking good. Gabriel knew he was a bright kid, he only had to look at his other grades to know that, but it clearly didn’t carry over into Chemistry. It wasn’t even the consistently missing homework assignments, a lot of kids just couldn’t be bothered to do their homework, but this was something different. Sam tried in class, he took notes, did his labs, but it wasn’t clicking, and Gabriel couldn’t stand seeing a kid with so much potential fail. 

Defeated, Sam sat down in his chair, hunched as if he was trying to make himself look smaller. Gabriel walked over and sat on the desk. 

“Sam,” he started. “You haven’t done your homework for the last week and you failed your pop quiz. I know you’re trying, I can tell from your labs, what’s up?” 

Sam shrugged, keeping his eyes focused on the cheap tiles of the floor. How was he supposed to say that it just wasn’t working? He was just some dumb kid, what did it matter to the college student anyways?

“Guess it’s just not for me,” he finally muttered. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t need chemistry to be a lawyer.”

His words were short and clipped, and he hoped it might convey just how much he didn’t want to be sitting there, having this conversation, to the older man. 

“You still need it to graduate high school though,” Gabriel pointed out. He wasn’t buying Sam’s tone. The boy cared about his grades, especially if he wanted to be a lawyer. “You need to pass chemistry to graduate, to get into college. It’s early enough in your senior semester that a bad grade will still affect your GPA,” he went on. “One bad grade, you get rejected, that narrows your choice of law schools by a lot.” 

He stared into Sam’s eyes, trying to get his point across. “I can help you, if you’d like. I can tutor you after school, a couple days a week. I can’t promise an A, but I can promise you won’t fail. Whaddyasay?” 

It sounded nice, Sam thought as he shifted in his seat a bit, trying to keep pressure off of his lower back as much as possible. Several large welts still remained from his father’s burst of anger, and subsequent belt, two days prior, and he was pretty sure at least one of them had broken the skin. The pain reminded him swiftly that, no matter how nice the offer sounded, it just wasn’t possible. 

“Thanks for the offer, Mr. Novak, but I can’t. I don’t really have the time after school,” Sam finally remarked, trying not to sound as disappointed by his own words as he really was. If he could just get away, he silently yelled, the hard press of the plastic chair against his injuries only serving to irritate him more. 

“Okay so after school is out,” Gabriel replied. “What about a free period? You can bring your lunch, and I can help you with the homework or whatever you don’t get. I only have class first, third and 8th period. Any other time works for me. I can help you make study guides for tests, whatever you need.” 

He knew he shouldn’t be pushing but this was what being a teacher was all about, reaching out and helping the kids who needed it. If Sam really wanted to be a lawyer, Gabriel would do everything in his power to make sure he got all the help he needed, if he wanted it. He couldn’t force the boy to come to tutoring, but he could try and make it available for him if he decided he wanted it. 

Sam huffed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at the man. Did he really have to be so pushy? Why the hell did he even care? Sam was one kid failing chemistry. The world wasn’t going to end just because of that. Instead, he closed his eyes, counting slowly to three, then opened them again and looked up into the golden eyes of Gabriel Novak.

“Fine. If you’re not going let it drop, then I guess I don’t have a choice. I can come in on my lunch.” He snipped as the first bell rang, and suddenly he was aware of the hum of activity outside in the hallways. “But no one can know, alright? My dad finds out I’m asking for help…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, breaking off as the door swung open and people started filing in. 

“Not a word,” Gabriel grinned at him as he got up. He walked to the front of the classroom slowly, acting as if nothing had happened. The rest of his students rushed to find their seats. Bobby was a stickler for starting class on time, but Bobby had been called into an emergency meeting, and that left Gabriel in charge until he got back. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. This was the first time he was being allowed to fly on his own, and even though Bobby had left a worksheet on the periodic table of elements for the students to do in their lab groups, he was still the teacher for all intents and purposes. 

“Good morning class,” Gabriel began. “Mr. Singer has a meeting, so we’re going to start class today with a worksheet, but first, something fun,” He smiled at them, catching Sam’s eye, as he took a koosh ball from his pocket. “I have a bowl full of candy,” he told them. “The first person to answer my question gets a piece. Don’t shout it out, raise your hand and I’ll throw you the ball. If you get it correct, you get a piece of candy and you get to ask the next question, got it?” 

A murmur swept over the class, and Gabriel felt smug. Bobby was a great teacher, but he was all business, he never gave them candy, or let them throw anything around. 

“First question,” Gabriel looked at his class. “ What is the abbreviation for Gold on the periodic table?” 

Gabriel wasn’t surprised at all that Harry Spengler had his hand in the air before the end of the question was even out of his mouth. He threw the ball to Harry, and he caught it with a manic grin. 

“AU!!” he shouted. 

Gabriel nodded. “Correct, come up and get a piece of candy, Harry,” he instructed. “I’ll sit in your seat, and you go up in front of the class,” 

Harry bounded up to the front, and Gabriel retreated to his chair in the second row. Harry stuck his hand in the bowl and came out with a piece of licorice. Gabriel withheld a grimace. He liked almost all sweets, but licorice tasted like dirt in his expert opinion. 

Harry faced the class, eyes darting. “Uhhhhhh, what atomic number is Zinc?” 

For a moment, no one moved to raise their hand or say anything. Sam rolled his eyes, glancing around at the rest of the class. The only person he could think of that would have known the answer by heart was Kevin Tran, and he was uncharacteristically missing from the class. Sam didn’t think he’s ever seen Kevin miss a class before. 

When the class was still silent an awkward minute later, Sam begrudgingly raised his hand. He caught the ball Harry threw his way, and with a flat tone, muttered, “30.”

He stood, letting Harry take his seat, and moved towards the front of the classroom. He stood in front of everyone, his eyes fixed on a spot on the far wall as he uncomfortably shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“Come on, Jolly Green,” Fergus Crowley called from his seat near the lab tables. The other students began to laugh, only a few having the decency to hide their snickering behind a hand. With a growl, Sam squeezed the ball in his hand, his stare remaining focused on the wall.

“What’s the atomic weight of Tungsten?” He was shocked his voice was so even, and still so flat. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, could feel his hand shaking with anger as he clenched the ball. 

Gabriel wasn't going to allow Crowley to have that jab. There was nothing he hated more than a bully, and Crowley was the very definition. He'd heard the mocking nicknames he'd given to members of their class, but recently, his ire had been directed at Sam, and Gabriel decided it was time to knock him down a peg or two. 

“Since you think you can talk during my lesson, Fergus,” he chided, knowing the boy hated his first name. “You can answer Sam’s question.” 

Crowley froze, as everyone turned to look at him. “Uhhh,” he stammered, his face flushing as he struggled. “I don't know.” 

“Then I’d keep your comments to yourself,” he smirked at him. “Can anyone else answer Mr. Winchester's question?” 

The students stared at him, as if afraid to speak. Crowley had sunk down in his chair, glowering at Gabriel from his seat. Ed Zeddmore shakily raised his hand, and Sam tossed him the ball. 

“I think it's 183.84,” he said quietly as if he was slightly afraid to be under Gabriel’s scrutiny. 

“Correct. Good job, Ed. Candy for you, and Sam, you come and sit in Ed’s seat.” Gabriel told them. 

Ed went up to the board and selected a piece of candy from the bowl, and Sam slunk into Ed’s chair near the back corner of the room. 

“Um what two elements make up water?” He asked the class. 

Sam kept his eyes on the scratched desktop in front of him as the game continued. He heard Charlie give the answer of, “Hydrogen and Oxygen!” to Ed’s question, saw the streak of red from the corner of his eye as she walked to the front of the room, then he tuned everything out. 

Why had Gabriel stuck up for him like that, and against Crowley no less? Sam was sure he’d never hear the end of it from stout, dark-haired boy. He was used to being called names. He’d certainly been called much worse than Jolly Green. So why did the older man care? Why did Sam? He didn’t have the answer to this question and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

The game ended with Sam still locked inside his own head and Gabriel instructing them all to return to their original seats. Mechanically, Sam returned to his desk and pulled out his pencil and notebook, refusing to look up as Gabriel handed out the worksheets Mr. Singer had left for them. 

It was halfway through class when Bobby returned, and Gabriel hadn't been able to catch Sam’s eye once. The boy kept his head down, never raising it once, not even when Bobby returned and began to teach his lesson. 

Gabriel sat back and listened to Bobby teach as he took his own notes, stealing looks at the students every so often. Sam wouldn't look at him, his face stuck in an angry scowl. 

Gabriel was confused. He would have thought Sam would have liked seeing Crowley given a taste of his own medicine, but apparently that wasn't the case. The rest of the class passed in a flurry of notes, and by the end, Gabriel was so bogged down with students asking questions about the homework, he missed his chance to talk to Sam. The second the bell rang, the boy was out the door like a shot, not even sparing a glance behind him. 

Gabriel made a mental note to broach the subject when he came to lunch, and began to prepare for his next lesson.

\--------- 

Gabriel didn't think Sam was coming. 

It was ten minutes into the lunch period and he still wasn't there yet. Gabriel had set up a table with his own lunch, and that night’s homework, hoping the boy would actually come, but it would seem he'd been stood up. 

He wondered if he'd strayed too far in what had happened earlier that day, if he'd pushed Sam away with giving Crowley a taste of his own medicine. 

Gabriel sighed, and began to eat his own lunch alone. 

Sam had spent several minutes debating whether or not he was actually going to take Gabriel up on his offer. He’d walked all the way to the cafeteria, determined to ignore the older man’s sudden interest in his life, but the longer he stood in line to get something to eat, the more he realized that he really couldn’t afford to turn him down. He paid for his salad and made his way to the chemistry classroom, hoping he wasn’t too late and that Gabriel would still be there. 

The door was open, so he didn’t bother to knock as he walked in. Gabriel was bent over papers, the same as he had been that morning, and Sam was caught off guard by the sudden urge to brush a stray curl back from the man’s face. He shoved the feeling away, hating himself for ever thinking it, and cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, the line was kinda long.” He lied as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously. 

Gabriel looked up from the papers he was grading. “Hey Sammy, sit. I'm sure you're starving. Eat first and we can start on tonight's homework,” 

He watched as the boy sat in the seat across from him and put his salad down on the desk. Gabriel frowned. Sam was still growing and the salad didn't look big enough to fill him up, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. He'd already pushed him enough for one day. 

He went back to grading papers as Sam began to eat, consuming his food like he was starving. Gabriel made a note to bring food for him next time, apples or snacks, something to add to what he was already getting. 

“So, what did you think of Bobby’s lesson today? Have any questions?” He asked, pulling out the textbook and flipping to the section Bobby had assigned.

Sam wiped his mouth as he finished the last of his salad and pulled out his notebook. He’d taken notes, written word for word what Mr. Singer had said, but it was like looking at hieroglyphics. 

“I dunno,” he started, “I just...I don’t get any of it. No matter what I do, no matter how many notes I take or how many times I go over them, nothing makes any sense. He might as well be teaching is French for all I’m getting out of it.”

He sighed heavily, trying to bite back the anger he felt at himself. He was trying. He was really trying, but none of it seemed to matter. He glanced up to meet Gabriel’s eyes, but looked away a second later. He was looking at Sam with that look on his face again, like there was something special about him, like he deserved whatever help he was given, and it irritated the boy. He knew he didn’t deserve any of this. He knew someone else would probably better benefit from the extra help, and instead Gabriel was wasting his lunch period on sad, weak, stupid, pathetic him. 

“I don’t even know where to start with any of it,” he finally muttered. If Gabriel was going to put in the time to help him, the least Sam could do (no matter how much he knew he didn’t deserve it) was put in the effort to learn. 

Gabriel fought the urge to ask about the anger he was getting. It was clear to him that Sam was angry about something, but he couldn’t decide whether it was him, or the normal teenage anger so many people had grown up with. Something about it made Gabriel think it was more real, deeper than being grounded or denied the car, but if Sam wanted to, he would tell him. 

“We start at the beginning,” Gabriel explained. “Elements, Dalton’s rules. Rule number one, Matter is made up of atoms that are indivisible and indestructible. Rule two, All atoms of an element are identical. Three,” he held up three fingers. “Atoms of different elements have different weights and different chemical properties. Four, Atoms of different elements combine in simple whole numbers to form compounds and last but not least Five, Atoms cannot be created or destroyed.”

This was all review, Bobby had gone over it the first day of class, but if Sam was going to understand chemistry, they had to go back to the beginning. 

“So every single atom of carbon is the same. It has the same atomic weight, the same number of electrons, same everything,” Gabriel told him. “With me so far?” 

Sam nodded but didn’t say anything, so Gabriel continued. 

“Elements combine to make compounds. There are two kinds of compounds those elements can form. Ionic compounds are formed when metals and nonmetals combine, trading positive and negative ions,” Gabriel flipped the textbook, until he found a copy of the periodic table. “Non-mental elements can form what’s called a covalent compound, which are neutral. Can you tell me what that means?” 

Sam looked at his notes in silence for a long time, trying to match what Gabriel was saying with what he’d already written down. He bit at his lip as he tried to work it all out in his mind, his eyes darting across the cramped handwriting on the paper.

“Uhmmm...it-it doesn’t have a charge?” He didn’t sound as confident as he wanted to, but he tried to ignore it. He looked up at Gabriel hopefully, praying he’d gotten something right for once.

“That’s right, Sammy,” Gabriel grinned at him. “Everything else in chemistry is based on those rules. Now Ionic compounds we already said have both positive and negative charges. Salt is a good example on an ionic compound,” He paused to write the shorthand for salt on the corner of Sam’s notebook. “So two Sodium form an ionic bond with a chlorine for form two salt. Covalent compounds, the neutral ones like you said, can be solids, liquids or gases.” 

Gabriel could tell from the look in Sam’s eyes that it was starting to click, at least at this early stage. If he could get this, then with some help, he could get the rest of it. 

“Mixtures, on the other hand, are different. Think of a mixture like Lucky Charms,” Gabriel leaned over and pulled out the bag of cereal he’d abandoned earlier in the morning. He dumped them out on his napkin. “There is a lot more cereal than there is marshmallows, and it’s easy to separate the cereal from the marshmallows. That’s a mixture, because every bag is not the same. There is a different ratio of cereal to marshmallows. Now Crispix,” he went on. “Have properties more similar to a compound. There are just as many rice flakes as there are corn flakes in a bag and it’s very hard to separate them from each other, just like a compound.”

He flipped back to the homework. “These questions are about the difference between compounds and mixtures. Why don’t you start on it now, and we can work through the questions as you have them?” 

Sam could only nod as he did his best to keep everything Gabriel has just explained to him from slipping away. It was actually starting to make sense, and Sam was terrified that the moment he looked away or thought about anything else, he’d lose it all again. 

He flipped to a clean page in his notebook and began to work on the homework they’d been given that morning. He looked over the paper, jotting down the answers to a few of the simpler questions while it was still fresh in his mind. He paused at one, trying to figure out the answer on his own, but he couldn’t. He looked up at Gabriel, his lip still firmly held between his teeth. He opened his mouth to ask for the other’s help, but the blaring sound of the school bell cut off his words before they could even form. 

He tried to return the slight smile Gabriel was giving him as he gathered his things, but it felt more like a grimace. He shouldered his bag and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Thank you, Mr. Novak.” He meant it. Not many offered to help him. Most knew better than to even ask. “See ya tomorrow.”

Without another word, Sam was out the door and headed to history, silently berating himself for practically running away like a scared kid.


	3. Chapter 3

[ ](https://imgur.com/H9Cr4FX)

Gabriel was hungry, his stomach was growling as the delectable smell of pizza wafting from the two closed cardboard box on the table. He’d been planning this for a week, and now he could barely wait. He always looked forward to seeing Sam at lunch, but today was special. 

 

The first lunch period bell had just rung, and he was alone in Bobby’s classroom waiting for Sam to make his appearance. After a month of tutoring Sam, he’d noticed that more often than not, Sam didn’t have lunch. He said he wasn’t hungry, but Gabriel saw right through that. Sam was far too thin, and that was something that Gabriel intended to fix. 

 

So he got pizza for them to share while they went over the latest exam, Hawaiian for him, and veggie for Sam. He noticed the boy had an affinity for vegetables, and although Gabriel didn't share that love, he wanted Sam to eat as much as he could. He didn’t seem to be getting much in the way of food or care at home, if judging by the way his spine poked out of his shirt, of the condition of his clothes was anything to go by. 

 

Gabriel liked to think that he’d gotten to know Sam pretty well in the last month, but there was still something Sam was holding back from him. He didn’t talk about his home life, other than his brother, Dean, and Gabriel knew he lived with his father from Bobby. Something was wrong, but every time Gabriel tried to offer his help, Sam pushed him away. He avoided questions about his father, about the way he sometimes limped into class, and Gabriel wasn’t buying any of it, but it wasn’t his place if Sam didn’t want to tell him. He was hoping that soon enough, Sam would trust him with that information, that he would let Gabriel help him. 

 

Sam had eased up around him though, which Gabriel thought was a step in the right direction. He called Gabriel by his first name now, smiled more when in his company, and did better on his exams and homework. That alone was enough to make Gabriel smile, but there was something more. 

 

He’d come to look forward to their lunches together, it was his favorite part of the day. Sam was a bright kid, funny and kind once you got to know him. When Sam finished his homework, they talked about everything under the sun, and Gabriel found himself in hysterics much of the time. It was a wonder to him that Sam didn’t have more friends, or a girlfriend as far as he could tell, but the prickly face he put out to the rest of the world may have had something to do with it. Sam kept his head down at school, Gabriel noticed, and rarely engaged with the other students, at least in his class. He made small talk with his lab partner, but nothing more. It was almost as if he didn’t think he deserved their friendship. 

 

The bell rang again, and Gabriel heard the door open behind him. 

 

Sam was stiff and sore, but that was nothing new, and he tried to shove down the pain as he shuffled into the room. He smiled slightly at Gabriel as he dropped his bag next to the desk he tended to favor during their sessions. 

 

“What’s all this?” He asked, glancing at the boxes of pizza. It smelled amazing and his mouth was starting to water, but he didn’t want to assume he was allowed to have any. He looked back at Gabriel, his head cocked slightly. 

 

Over the last few weeks, he’d begun to feel something when he was near the older man. He wasn’t sure what it was, and he knew deep down it wasn’t right for him to feel anything for anyone let alone a teacher. Knowing this didn’t stop the feelings from being there, though. It was strange, but he felt almost safe when he was with Gabriel, like he could let his guard down, like he didn’t have constantly worry about fucking up and stress over what punishment might come from it if he did. He had to wonder if this was what normal teenagers felt like all the time. 

 

“I got us lunch,” Gabriel explained with a smile. “We’ve been working hard, and we deserve something special. That whole veggie pizza is for you, so don’t feel like you can only have two pieces of it.”  Gabriel slid the pizza over towards Sam. “I don’t have any plates, so we’re just gunna have to eat it out of the box.”

 

Gabriel took the hawaiian for himself and leaned back into his usual chair. 

 

“No such thing as bad pizza,” he took a piping hot slice and bit into it, yelping when the cheese and pineapple burnt the top of his mouth. He dropped the pizza back into the box. “Careful,” he told Sam. “It’s really hot.” 

 

Sam chuckled, taking a careful bite out of one slice of his veggie pizza. His stomach was growling, angry that he’s skipped breakfast that morning in order to finish his chores, and he didn’t have words to express how relieved and grateful he was to Gabriel for bringing lunch. He was in awe of the fact that the whole thing was his; no one had ever given him anything just for him before. The fact that Gabriel had even thought to get one for him had Sam convinced once more that he definitely didn’t deserve any of the attention Gabriel was giving him. 

 

“I can tell,” he said teasingly as he swallowed. He took another bite, his eyes closing as he savored the rare treat of garlicy crust, melted cheese, and cooked veggies. He didn’t get pizza often, preferring healthy foods when he had the option, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.

 

“This is the best thing I’ve had in ages,” he finally, licking a stray strand of cheese from his lips. He tried his best to keep the flush from his cheeks when he looked over at Gabriel. “I don’t get things like this very often. I-I don’t really know how to thank you for it. For any of this, really. I’m only passing this class because of you.”

 

“It’s just a pizza, Sammy,” Gabriel chuckled, taking a second try at his own slice. It had cooled down, and despite his crisped taste buds, it still tasted amazing. He took a couple bites of it, before responding. “Don’t mention it, kiddo. I really enjoy our little sessions,” he admitted without realizing it, and then he shoved the rest of his pizza in his mouth before he could say anything else inappropriate. 

 

He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he was telling the truth. He did enjoy spending time with Sam and it wasn’t just the satisfaction of teaching him chemistry that was making him feel that way. He genuinely enjoyed Sam’s company, maybe a little too much for propriety's sake, and it was only getting worse with each session. Gabriel knew he should keep his distance, but he was sure his little crush or whatever he was feeling would go away, and he didn’t feel like Sam should suffer for it, since he was clearly responding to his help.  

 

He took another slice from the box. “So got any big plans for the weekend, Sammy?” he asked, kicking his legs up on another desk. 

 

Sam shrugged as he finished his second slice and started on his third. Did he ever have plans for the weekend? He shook his head finally, “Not really. Just homework, chores, the usual. What about you? What does a college student do in their free time?”

 

He was genuinely curious about college. He was eager to go, to get away from his father and his life, away from the pain and the resentment and the constant tension. At least at college, the only thing he’d have to stress over was school. The idea of that kind of freedom was enticing to the teen on a level most could never understand. 

 

He paused as he looked over at Gabriel again, waiting for a response. A bit of cheese was clinging to the man’s bottom lip and Sam suddenly had a very strong urge to reach over and wipe it away. His inner voice chuckled, ‘Or lick it off.’

 

He could feel his cheeks begin to burn as he quickly turned his attention back to his lunch.

 

“Not like the movies unfortunately,” Gabriel took another bite and chewed. “Lots of studying, and school work. There’s some partying involved on occasion. I’ve been known to go to a party or two, but now I don’t have the time for it, too much work to do.” He explained, licking his lips. 

 

He watched Sam eat piece after piece, and it made him happy knowing that Sam was getting fed. If no one was looking after his needs at home, Gabriel would do it. He decided right then and there to bring Sam lunch as often as he could. At least then he could insure that Sam got at least one meal during the day. 

 

“What did you think of the quiz?” 

 

“It wasn’t so bad, I guess. Now that I’m kinda starting to get things, it’s easier to handle it all.” He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his flannel shirt as he reached for his fifth slice. “Not sure if I passed it or not, but at least I knew some of the answers.”

 

Sam couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that ran through him at the idea of Gabriel going to parties. He wasn’t sure why he was jealous, he wasn’t really the social type, and Gabriel had a right to do whatever he wanted, but Sam couldn’t help it. Something about the very idea of it didn’t sit right with him. 

 

“Well as luck would have it,” Gabriel grinned at him, pulling Sam’s test and the answer key from his folder. “I have your test here. We can go over the ones you got wrong. Good job by the way.” he grinned, showing Sam the circled 71 on the top. “Much better than the last one.” 

 

He laid the test down in front of Sam so he could see, watching as the boy went through it quickly. 

 

“You did really well on the solid and liquid questions, but you’re still having a problem with the properties of gases,” Gabriel told him. “We could start there? How does that sound?” 

 

Sam nodded, and Gabriel flipped his test over to one of the questions he had gotten wrong. 

 

“There are five laws when it comes to gases. Boyle’s law, which is about  the pressure and volume of gases, Charle’s law which is about temperature and volume, Gay-Lassac’s law, pressure and temperature . Can you tell me the other two?” 

 

Sam looked at the paper, absently chewing in the end of his pencil as he racked his brain for the answers. He was trying so hard to get this, and while Gabriel had been right in saying his grade was much better than the previous test, it wasn’t good enough. If his father saw it, he’d be limping to class just like last time. He had to do better. He could hear his father’s voice ringing in his ears, ‘pathetic...waste of space...worthless…’

 

‘Uhm...Av-Avagadro’s Law, and,,,um,,,the Gas Law?” He looked over at Gabriel, waiting for him to say he was wrong, waiting for him to realize none of this was worth is and demand Sam stop wasting his time and just leave.

 

Gabriel nodded, his smile still in place, making a hand gesture for him to continue. 

 

“Avogadro’s is about volume and amount?” He asked uncertainly, “And the Gas Law is about p-pressure, volume, and...and temperature?”

 

“That’s right!” Gabriel smirked, patting Sam gently on the back. “See? I knew it was in there. Tests just suck. You study and you study, and everything just goes right out of your head. I’m a terrible test taker myself,” He went on to the next question Sam had gotten wrong. “Gases can form what kind of bonds? Covalent or Ionic?” 

 

He knew that most kids suffered from test anxiety, but for some reason, Sam’s had some of the worst that Gabriel had ever seen. He didn’t even seem excited that his scores had improved. Most kids would be over the moon for such an improvement, but Sam seemed disproportionately disappointed by it. 

 

He wanted to point out to the older boy that the test wasn’t what sucked in this equation, but he bit his tongue instead and simply nodded. He chose to focus on the next question.

 

“Covalent?” Sam asked, trying his best not to flinch away from the physical contact. He appreciated the show of support, and under normal circumstances, he probably would have relished the show of praise, but there was always a nagging fear in the back of his mind when he saw a raised hand coming towards him. Just one more reason why his father was right to call him pathetic, he supposed.

 

Gabriel pulled his hand back when he saw Sam flinch. It only confirmed his suspicion that something was going on at home. “Sorry,” he apologized quickly, returning his hand to his side. “That’s right.” 

 

He took a deep breath. He’d been dreading having to ask Sam about his home life, but this seemed to be the perfect time. He just hoped he didn’t destroy whatever trust they had built between them in the months they’d spent together. 

 

“Uhh Sam,” he began. “Is everything alright at home? You know you can talk to me, right?” 

 

Sam had been expecting a lot of things, but that sure as hell wasn’t one of them. He could feel his face begin to burn with the all too familiar sense of shame, and he looked down, his hair falling forward like a curtain to protect him. What was he supposed to say to that? He wanted to lie, the same as he always had, to say that everything was fine and that they should move on. He wanted to get angry and snap at Gabriel that it wasn’t any of his business. He wanted to cry and spill every secret he’d ever kept. 

 

What was wrong with him? He’d been asked this before and he’d brushed it off like a cobweb, reassuring everyone that everything was just perfect. He sucked at lying, but this was one lie he’d perfected. John had made sure of it. Why was Gabriel asking the same question any different? Why couldn’t he just get up and walk away?

 

His throat was tight when he tried to swallow, and his voice was shaky as he spoke. 

 

“It’s f-fine. I-I’m f-fine.” Even he didn’t believe his words. 

 

_ ‘Pathetic!’  _ John’s voice boomed inside his head and he couldn’t stop the slight jerk of his body, a conditioned response to his father’s ire. 

 

Gabriel didn’t want to push any farther, the simple question causing such distress as it did. It only cemented the suspicion even more in his head. He made a mental note to talk to Bobby privately later, friends with his father be damned. 

 

“Alright,” he began slowly, not wanting to make anything worse. “You can talk to me, Sam, about anything. Anytime, it doesn't have to be about school.” He just wanted Sam to know that he wasn’t alone with whatever he was facing. He scrawled his phone number on a piece of paper and slid it across the table. “You can text me anytime.” 

 

He knew it might have been inappropriate to give a student his number, but it was clear to him that the boy was in trouble. 

 

Sam hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the slip of paper. With a jerky nod of his head, he snatched the paper up and shoved it into his pocket. 

 

“Thanks,” he muttered as he stood and gathered his things. The bell rang, eliciting a slightly startled jump from the boy, and without another word, he slung his bag over his shoulder and bolted from the room.

 

He didn’t let himself think about Gabriel anymore that day, focusing almost manically on his school work, and when he got home, his chores. It wasn’t until he was crawling into bed that night, thankful that his father was passed out cold on the sofa downstairs in a drunken stupor, that Sam let himself go over what had happened. Was he serious? Did Gabriel have any idea what he was stepping into? Sam had to wonder if the other truly cared or if he was only doing it out of some chivalrous notion that he needed to protect Sam. 

 

He couldn’t know, not for sure, and he wasn’t about to ask. With a heavy sigh, Sam shook his head, turned off the lamp beside his bed, and closed his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

[ ](https://imgur.com/eXywxC7)

Gabriel didn’t want to think about school anymore. It had been an absolutely hellish week between student-teaching and his own course work. He toyed with the idea of going out, of meeting some friends out at the bar, but the idea of curling up with a book and a cup of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows and whipped cream was much more interesting right now. 

 

He drew himself a bath, with lots of sweet smelling bubbles, and lolled around in his small tub as he let all the stress of the previous week melt away. The lesson Bobby was teaching now was a particularly hard one, and Gabriel found every spare second taken up by some student or another needing help with their assignments. He had even had to turn some of them away, simply for lack of time, but he made sure to keep his lunches free for Sam. 

 

His sessions with Sam had been a little tense after he’d asked about his home life, but Gabriel had been pleased Sam hadn’t shut down completely. That in and of itself was a step forward from where they had been in the beginning of the school year. Little by little, he was earning Sam’s trust one day at a time. More often than not, when they finished reviewing, they just sat talking until the period was up. 

 

He found out Sam’s favorite color was green, and that even though he wasn’t a big fan of sweets, he did love vanilla ice cream. He told Sam about his mess of older brothers, and his absentminded father, and Sam in turn told him about his brother, Dean, who was a mechanic a couple towns over. 

 

Gabriel got out of the tub, dressing in his favorite ratty pajamas and made himself a large steaming mug of hot chocolate laced with kahlua and homemade marshmallows. He got comfortable on the couch, tucking an old quilt around him as he settled in for the night. 

 

He was not expecting company. 

 

~~~~~

 

Sam hadn’t realized what day it was when he’d woken up that morning. He’d been so out of it, that it really didn’t matter. He spent the day doing his chores and staying out of his father’s way. John had been in an awful mood all morning, and Sam wasn’t really looking forward to bearing the brunt of it. He’d finished by mid-morning and retreated to his room, fingers itching to lock the door even though he knew he wasn’t allowed to. When John had left at noon, Sam had let himself breathe a sigh of relief. He didn’t know or care why the man had left, he was simply grateful for the respite. It was never easy living with John Winchester, and any time Sam got the chance to relax just a bit was nice. 

 

It wasn’t until that evening, as he was finishing up dinner, when John walked through the front door like a black cloud of rage and resentment and gave Sam a look of total, unadulterated disgust that he realized his mistake. 

 

It was November. 

 

The 2nd of November to be exact. 

 

His blood ran cold as his heart began to pound in his chest. He wondered what this year would entail. His father’s ‘punishments’ had grown steadily worse with each passing anniversary of his mother’s death, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this was the year he didn’t come back from it. He had no questions as to whether or not his father hated him enough to kill him, he just wondered when the man would try. 

 

“Get the fuck out, you pathetic, worthless, pansy ass piece of shit.” John growled as he dropped into his seat at the table. Sam didn’t argue, didn’t wait to be told a second time. He all but ran from the kitchen and up the stairs to his room. On a whim, and maybe a hint of self-preservation, Sam turned the lock for the first time in ten years. 

 

He wasn’t sure what made him pick up his phone, or what drove him to punch in the number from the scrap of paper Gabriel had given him weeks before, but without realizing what he was doing, Sam was texting the man.

 

_ ‘Hope you’re having a nice weekend. Might not make it to class Monday.’  _ He hit send before he could overthink anything.   

 

Gabriel was startled when he felt his phone buzz on his pocket. He was half-asleep on his couch, watching some nature documentary.  He hadn't been expecting anyone to text him, hadn't texted anyone who would be replying to him. Something about it felt strange.

 

Yawning loudly, he fished it out of his pocket, and pressed the side button to display the message on the screen. 

 

It was Sam. 

 

Gabriel almost dropped his phone in shock. He had given Sam his number a while ago, and even though he meant what he had said when he'd given it to him, he never expected Sam to actually use it. Something had to be wrong. 

 

He contemplated calling the police, but he didn’t want to jump the gun. He didn’t want to get Sam into anymore trouble than he was already in at home. Last thing he needed was a nosy student teacher poking his nose where it didn’t belong. 

 

‘ _ Hey Sam,’  _ he typed carefully. ‘ _ It's going great, is everything alright?’  _

 

After he hit send, Sam had locked his phone and tossed it on his bed, not really expecting the man to respond. He was probably out with friends, enjoying his weekend like any normal person would be. Even if he wasn’t, Sam was fairly certain he wouldn’t want to waste his time texting a student, and a sad excuse for one at that. 

 

He was pacing the length of his room (with his long legs, it was only a few paces either direction), feeling like a caged animal awaiting slaughter, when he heard the soft buzz of his phone on the blanket. He paused, picking it up and unlocking it to read the response, then started pacing again as he tapped out a quick reply.

 

_ ‘Fine.’  _ he wanted to tack on a nonchalant ‘for now,’ but he left it.  _ ‘Just feeling kinda sick. Might be a bug.’ _

 

He tapped send and locked his phone again, shoving it into his back pocket this time. He could hear the faint noises of the fridge opening and the TV turning on downstairs, could hear his father’s heavy footsteps on the hardwood floors, and he prayed the man drank himself unconscious before long. Part of him wanted to run, to just grab what he could and sneak out the window, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. John would find him wherever he went. The man had plenty of friends in town, and Sam had none. No one would take him in. 

 

Gabriel knew Sam was lying. Sam wouldn't just text him out of the blue for a reason as small as he was getting sick.  

 

_ ‘Hot tea with honey and lemon,’ _ he typed back after a moment of deliberation. He knew Sam would clam up if he pushed, and if Sam was really in trouble like Gabriel thought he might be, he needed to keep communication open.  _ ‘Oh, and zinc,’  _ he added.  _ ‘That'll make it shorter. I hope you feel better’ _

 

He didn't know what else he could do other than just talk. If Sam didn't tell him, he could only do so much. Gabriel took a deep breath and settled back into the couch. He put his phone next to him, but picked it back up after a minute. He could keep Sam talking. 

 

_ ‘What's your favorite movie? I always watch movies when I'm sick’  _

 

Sam was shocked to feel his phone go off again so quickly. Maybe Gabriel wasn’t doing anything, after all. Sam didn’t like the feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he thought about the fact that he was probably interrupting the man’s weekend, so he was a bit relieved to think he wasn’t being too much of an inconvenience.

 

_ ‘I’ll try that, thanks.’  _ he hit send, and was shoving his phone into his pocket again when it vibrated once more.

 

Movies? That was an odd question, but it made Sam wonder if maybe Gabriel actually wanted to talk to him. He’d take what he could get, he mused.

 

_ ‘Not sure. Haven’t seen many of them.’  _ he tapped at the screen furiously.  _ ‘My mom used to watch Neverending Story with me though. It’s probably the closest I’ve got to a favorite.’ _

 

Sam wasn’t really sure why he was telling Gabriel that, but he hit send anyways.

 

Gabriel was relieved every time his went off. It meant that Sam was well, and that was a good thing. As long as he could keep him talking, the better he would feel, even if the horrible hunch in his stomach was for nothing after all. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but if Sam was okay, it was all worth it. 

 

_ ‘That’s a good one,’ _ He typed back, adding a smiley face at the end. _ ‘I watched that as a teenager a lot,’ _ he admitted, glad that Sam couldn’t see his face. ‘ _ I think my favorite sick day movies are either Lord of the Rings or Star Wars. Come to think of it, I could watch those movies any time and never get sick of them.’ _

 

He was glad that Sam kept responding to him, that he had taken Gabriel up on his somewhat inappropriate offer in the first place. It made his night in a little less sad.

 

_ ‘I’ll have to take your word for it. I’ve never seen them.’  _ Sam knew it was pretty pathetic, but he never really had time for movies. If he happened to catch it on TV, then great, but otherwise he didn’t see many of them. 

 

He froze as the sound of heavy footfalls came from downstairs. He listened, waiting with baited breath for them to start up the stairs towards his room, and let out a shaky sigh of relief when they stopped again. 

 

How did things get like this, Sam thought idly. How had this become his life, waiting, terrified, in his room like a child, walking on eggshells just to keep from getting the shit beat out of him? Mom never would have let things turn out this way, he bit his lip angrily, but then mom wasn’t around anymore, was she? 

 

That was his fault. He was the only one to blame for the way things were and he knew it. This was his punishment for killing his mother, and he wasn’t sure if it was enough. He didn’t know if it would ever be enough. 

 

_ ‘You’ve never seen Star Wars!?,’ _ Gabriel wrote back quickly, adding a shocked emoji after it.  _ ‘We’re going to have to fix that. I’ll have to see if I can steal a TV one afternoon.’ _ he promised.  _ ‘We’ll have a movie marathon while we study.’ _

 

Gabriel was only half paying attention to the documentary he was watching, and he got up to get himself another refreshment. The cocoa was making him sleepy, so he fixed himself a tequila sunrise instead, heavy on the tequila, light on the orange juice and grenadine, and put something more exciting on the TV. He had to stay awake to talk to Sam. He didn’t have anything to do tomorrow after all. He’d talk to Sam until Sam didn’t want to talk anymore. 

 

Sam was brought from his self-loathing stupor by the feeling of his phone buzzing in his hand. He glanced down at the screen, his eyes a little hazy as he forced back the tears that were threatening to fall.

 

_ ‘Don’t think we’ll get much studying done that way.’  _ He wasn’t sure what else to say, He was grateful for everything Gabriel had done for him already, but knowing he didn’t deserve any of it was making it difficult for him to continue accepting his help.

 

He didn’t want to let it go either, though. Lunch was the only thing he had to look forward to. No matter how awful he felt, how sore he was or how shitty his day had been, seeing Gabriel at lunch made him feel better. He wasn’t sure why, maybe it had something to do with the crush he’d been developing on the older man, or maybe it was because Gabriel was the first person to come into his life that actually seemed to give a damn about him and what he was going through. Regardless, Sam was loath to lose that half an hour of feeling safe and special and wanted.

 

_ ‘But, you’re the teacher, so I can’t really stop you if you decide to.’  _ Sam tacked on a smiley face.

 

Gabriel’s next text had him smiling for real, something he didn’t do very often. It felt strange to smile. What the hell did he have to be happy about, anyways?

 

_ ‘I’m not a real teacher just yet.’  _ Gabriel typed back. _ ‘I can still be fun until I get my degree. Besides, what kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t impart some wisdom about life? Star Wars is important. Do or do not, there is no try and all that jazz.’  _

 

Gabriel flipped through the channels, it was late and so far there was nothing good on TV, nothing that would keep him awake. He thought about making coffee, but it would make him jittery, and it wasn’t good to mix uppers and downers, he remembered that much from his high school health class. 

 

He settled on one of the higer movie channels, where they had just started the original Friday the 13th. By the end, he knew he’d been too scared to sleep anyway, or at least that was what he hoped. 

 

_ ‘What are you doing besides being sick?’ _

 

_ ‘Honestly?’  _ Sam asked. Before Gabriel could reply, he typed out his answer.

 

_ ‘Hiding in my room like a fucking child.’ _ He paused, then erased the message, a new wave of anger taking over. 

 

_ ‘Just being sick. Not much else to do. Homework is done. No tests to study for. What about you? Am I bothering you?’  _ He hit send this time and fell backwards over the foot of his bed. Pacing was getting him nowhere, not that he had anywhere to go, and it was making him dizzy. 

 

_ ‘You aren’t bothering me,’  _ Gabriel responded.  _ ‘I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t want you to text me. I told you, you can always talk to me, even if it’s not about school.’  _

 

He sent the message, and he meant every word of it. The rational part of him told him he shouldn’t, and Gabriel couldn’t deny that he felt a pull towards Sam that was perhaps inappropriate, but it only became clearer the more he talked to Sam, that Sam needed him. Whether Sam needed him as a teacher or merely a friend, wasn’t that was what teachers were supposed to do? 

 

_ ‘I’m not doing anything much. Drinking and watching horror movies by myself at my place. Thought I’d take advantage of the quietness at Crawford hall for once  Pretty pathetic, huh?’ _

 

Sam yawned, glancing over at the clock. He hadn’t heard any movement from his father in some time, which left him feeling both relieved and worried. It was almost eleven, and he wasn’t very tired, but he didn’t know how much sleep he was going to get if things went the way they usually did on the anniversary of his mother’s death.

 

_ ‘Don’t get scared,’  _ Sam teased, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out. He stood and stripped, changing into his flannel pajama pants, then turned off the light and crawled under the sheets. He’d sleep while he could. 

 

_ ‘I’m gonna crash. Being sick is exhausting.’  _ He messaged Gabriel, not wanting the man to worry when he didn’t hear from him again. At least if something happened, Gabriel wouldn’t be expecting his reply. He locked his phone and dropped it on his nightstand before snuggling down into the cocoon of blankets he’d created.

 

_ ‘Sleep well, and feel better. Good night,’ _ Gabriel yawned as he typed the last message and sent it. The tequila and horror movies had not worked like he had hoped, but perhaps it was for the best. If Sam was going to sleep, he was safe, and Gabriel could rest easy. He cleaned up his cups and turned off the TV before going upstairs to his bedroom. 

 

His bed was a mess, but it was the way he liked it. Gabriel slept in a pile of blankets, none of them matching or tucked in. An old girlfriend had teased him that his bed looked like a duck’s nest, but Gabriel didn’t care. He was comfortable and warm, that was all that mattered in the end. He drank a full glass of water to combat the headache that was sure to come, and brushed his teeth before stripping down to his boxer briefs and burrowing into bed. 

 

Normally he liked to read before he went to bed, but tonight between the worrying and the booze, he was too damn tired. Gabriel plugged his phone in on his nightstand, and was asleep in minutes. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

[ ](https://imgur.com/g4YMdOC)

Sam wasn’t sure what had woken him when he was ripped from a rather deep sleep, and then he heard it. His father was cursing loudly, his words slurred and dripping with rage, as he banged against Sam’s bedroom door. A flurry of panic flew through Sam, his heart racing behind his ribs. He had been foolish to hope for just one year’s reprieve from the wrath of his father, and now he'd get it even worse for having left the door locked. 

 

He glanced over at the phone on his nightstand. He could call 911, but it wouldn’t do him any good. Dean would never answer his phone this late, he slept like the dead. Maybe Gabriel would answer? No, Sam sighed, he didn’t want to be a bother. Resigned to his fate, he tossed back the covers and climbed out of bed. He didn't make it to the door, though, before his father slammed against it with his full weight and practically ripped it from its hinges. 

 

Sam was tall, having several inches on his father, but he was lanky and physically no match for the burly mechanic. He didn’t even have time to beg for his father to leave him alone before the man was on top of him, anger roiling off of him in almost palpable waves. A heavy fist to his right jaw left Sam stunned and stumbling towards the bed. 

 

“Ungrateful...told you never to lock that damn door...worthless...fucking bitch…” he heard his father slur from behind him. His jaw throbbed painfully, and he could taste the familiar metallic tang of blood in his mouth. 

 

A hand fisted in his hair, jerking him backwards and away from the bed. He tried to keep quiet. Experience had taught him that being quiet meant things would be over quicker. Making noises, especially crying, only made his father that much angrier, and usually earned him a few good punches and kicks. As quickly as he was pulled back, Sam was being shoved to the floor, landing so hard on his outstretched hands that his arms collapsed beneath him. His forehead slammed against the floor and for a moment, Sam swore the edges of his vision went black. 

 

He wished he'd hit harder when he heard the unmistakable sound of his father removing his belt. Being unconscious wouldn't have stopped John, but at least Sam wouldn't remember it happening. He clenched his eyes shut, biting hard at his cheek to keep himself from screaming, and waited for the blows to start. Instead, he felt the cool, hard leather wrap around his throat, cinching tight enough to make breathing uncomfortable. Panic welled up inside him, and without thinking of his father's reaction, Sam began to claw at the belt, scratching at his own neck in an effort to get it off.  

 

“Waste of space...whore… worthless slut,” John slurred behind him, yanking down Sam’s pajama bottoms with the hand that wasn't holding the belt tightly. There was nowhere Sam could go, nothing he could do to stop what was happening. Every time he made any attempt to pull at or loosen the belt with his fingers, John just pulled it harder, making Sam struggle for air. Sam couldn’t remember ever wanting to sink into the floor so badly in his entire life.

 

“It’s your own damn fault…” He heard his father mutter in his ear, his breath smelling like a brewery. “She died to save your faggot ass. Now, you get to do everything she can’t.”

 

Sam could hear the sneer in his voice, the cold, unfeeling mockery. It made his stomach churn. He opened his mouth to speak, though he wasn’t sure what he could possibly say. He knew he was to blame for his mother’s death, but he never thought for a second that his father would do something like this to punish him for it. Then again, when he stopped to pay attention, he could see his father had been planning it all along. Years of being little more than a servant, of being made to cook and clean, of being called a bitch and a sissy, suddenly made sense. It had all started not long after Dean had inadvertently told John that Sam was gay, and without a doubt, Sam knew that it had all been leading up to this moment. 

 

Knowing what was about to happen could never have prepared him for the reality of it.

 

Blinding, white hot pain shot through him as John forced himself inside him. He tried to scream, but he could barely breathe. He wondered if he was being torn in two or if it just felt that way, and he prayed the pain would lessen. It only got worse as John drove into him, over and over. Sam felt sick. He felt dirty and ashamed and a million other things he didn’t have names for, and none of it was good. He’d been beaten, he’d dealt with years of physical and mental and verbal abuse, but it all paled compared to this. 

 

As quickly as it began, it was over. With a drunken grunt, his father pulled away. The belt went slack around his throat and Sam took the chance to rip it off, flinging it across the room. He could feel the blood and fluids as they ran down the inside of his thigh, and he tried not to think about it, his stomach churning. He felt ill, as if he were about to vomit, but there was nothing in his stomach to expel. He’d missed lunch to clean and he'd never gotten to eat dinner. 

 

A heavy ‘thud’ startled him, making him jump and turn. John was passed out, pants and underwear still around his knees. Rage washed over Sam, stronger than anything he'd ever felt before, and he was certain in that moment that murdering John Winchester would be the smartest thing he could ever possibly do. 

 

No, the rational part of his mind weighed in, his rage giving way to a much more familiar sense of bitter self-loathing. Killing John would only hurt him. He'd go to prison, and he'd end up a pathetic, worthless bitch there too. No, if he wanted to hurt John, he'd kill himself. Take away his maid, his cook, and his fuck toy all in one go. It wouldn't be that hard, and it wasn't like anyone would miss him. Besides, it was better than a useless whore like him deserved. 

 

The unconscious mass on his floor jerked, grunted, and fell still and silent once more. It was enough to bring Sam back to reality. He needed to run, to get away, before one of them actually did end up dead. 

 

Moving was painful, but Sam was more than used to that. He tore off his clothes and changed into clean ones, stuffing as much as he could into a duffle bag he'd grabbed from beneath his bed. He didn't know how much time he had, and he sure as hell didn't want to be around for round two when John woke up. 

 

He grabbed his backpack, his phone, and his jacket, and made his way as quickly as he could manage down the stairs. Pain radiated through his body with each step and he wanted nothing more than to just curl up and fade away, to let the pain take over, but he refused to give his father that satisfaction. As much as he loathed himself, he despised his father more, and any win he could get against the man was well worth the pain. He slipped outside, gingerly slid onto his bike, and started the engine. He revved the engine loudly before taking off, the rear tire leaving a thick black track on the floor of the garage. 

 

Now he just needed a place to go. He drove aimlessly, the pain keeping him alert as the exhaustion began to wear on him. He wasn't paying much attention to where he was going, so he was rather surprised to find himself on the opposite side of town just as it began to rain. He need to get somewhere soon, or he'd be soaked. Then he really would be sick. At least he wouldn't be lying to Gabriel then, he thought wryly. 

 

A lightbulb went off in his head, and suddenly Sam had an idea. He could go to Gabriel's. John would never know to look for him there. He remembered the man saying he lived at Crawford Hall. That was little more than five miles from where he currently was. It might work. 

 

Sam gunned his bike, making it to the apartment complex in record time. He just had to find out which one was Gabriel's. The longer it took him to locate the right apartment, the less he began to believe in his own plan. The man was asleep, and Sam was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to take in a failure like him. He was just about to give up when he saw it. 

 

_ Novak, G. - Apt. 4A _

 

An odd feeling of relief swept over him, quickly followed by apprehension and gut wrenching fear. He parked his bike, stuffing the keys in his pocked, and made his way towards the door. There was no doorbell, or knocker, so Sam mustered what little courage he had and brought his fist down hard against the beige front door.  

 

\----- 

 

Gabriel awoke to loud knocking at his front door. He thought it was a dream at first, but when it didn't stop, he was forced to  open his eyes. He groaned, and turned over to look at the clock.  

 

3:45 am 

 

Who the hell could be knocking at this hour? 

 

Gabriel slowly lumbered out of bed, and slipped his bathrobe over his boxers. He went to his closet, and picked up the bat he kept hidden there, just in case of emergencies. He lived by himself, with his cat, and he wasn't very big to begin with, it was good to have a little extra force on his side. The knocking got louder and more frenzied.

 

“Hold your horses!” He yelled at the door, hissing as his feet came in contact with the cold tile floor of his hallway. He could feel the nerves rising in his stomach, there had been a string of burglaries in the complex, and he wasn't taking any chances. Although, he thought, as he neared the front door, would a burglar knock? 

 

Gabriel stood on his tippy-toes and looked through the peephole at the person who was knocking. 

 

Sam Winchester was standing at his doorstep. 

 

Gabriel undid the chain and lock as quickly as he could, flinging the door open. 

 

Sam looked like he'd been through hell and back. He had a black eye, there was blood on his face, and his lips were split in multiple places. He was holding himself in a way that suggested his face wasn't the only place he was hurting.  Everything was fresh, he could still see unclotted blood in his nose and the bleeding cuts on his face. Whatever happened, had happened recently, and Gabriel had just let it happen. 

 

He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Sam being abused while he lay sleeping content in his bed. 

 

“Jesus Christ, Sammy,” he blurted out without thinking about it. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”  

 

It was a stupid question. Of course he wasn't okay by the looks of him, but it had just popped out in a moment of shock. 

 

“Come in,” he said quickly, holding the door open wider so Sam could get in. The boy gingerly took a step inside and Gabriel closed the door behind him. 

 

Sam looked around, but he wasn't really taking anything in. He stumbled a bit, catching himself against the wall of the entryway, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of the mud and water he'd tracked in. 

 

“Shit!” He hissed, looking up at Gabriel apologetically. “I'm sorry. I'm making a mess...I should go…” 

 

He started back towards the door but stumbled again. The adrenaline that had kept him going this long was wearing off and everything else was catching up to him. His neck throbbed, and speaking was painful. His voice was raspy and strained even to his own ears. How could he do this, put Gabriel in this position? How horrible of a person was he? 

“It's just mud, Sammy. I do own a mop,” Gabriel told him. “And you aren't going anywhere. You look like you're about to fall over. We need to go to the hospital, and then call the police.” 

 

There was no way Sam had gotten into this state by himself. He'd been attacked, and he needed medical attention as soon as possible. Gabriel looked him up and down, noticing the bruising around his neck, and the defensive wounds on his hands. He'd been fighting whoever had attacked him.  

 

Gabriel felt horrible. He wanted to fall on his knees and ask Sam's forgiveness. He'd known something was going on with him from the first day he'd met, and he'd done nothing. He'd allowed this to happen to him, allowed him to get hurt under his watch. This was his fault. If he'd spoken up, insisted that Bobby do something, maybe Sam wouldn't be standing before him like this. 

 

“No,” Sam said quickly, wincing at the sharp pain in his throat as he did so. “No cops, no doctors. I'll be fine.”

 

Doctors meant records, tests, poking and prodding and Sam couldn't handle that. They'd want to call his next of kin, and that was the man he was trying to get away from. The police wouldn't be any better. Hell, most of them were friends with John, had known Sam since he was born, and wouldn't hesitate to call him a liar if he even tried to tell someone what had really happened. 

 

“I just need somewhere to crash, just for tonight. I'll think up something else tomorrow. Please,” he pleaded, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn't really sure if he was trying to protect himself or hold himself together anymore. 

 

“Sam, you need medical attention,” Gabriel said, walking to his wall unit to pull off his first aid kit. “More than I can give you with this.” 

 

Sam showed no sign of budging. He kept shaking his head no, and Gabriel couldn't force him to go, even if it was the best thing for him. There was clearly a reason why Sam didn't want the cops involved, and when he was ready to talk, Gabriel would listen. 

 

“Fine,” he caved. “At least come sit down so I can check you over. Please. No cops, no hospital. Just me and you, like at lunch.” 

 

He crossed the room and sat down on his old worn couch, and after a moment and it was clear Gabriel wasn't going to call for anyone, Sam followed, sitting down with an audible groan of pain. 

 

Gabriel opened his kit, and pulled out some gauze, some wipes and some antibiotic ointment. He tore open one of the wipes, and carefully he began to clean the worst of the cuts on Sam’s face. 

 

“Will you tell me what happened?” 

 

Sam looked everywhere but at Gabriel, not even wincing as the alcohol burned his already frayed nerve endings. Everything was pain, so what was a little more? He could feel the shame of what had happened to him burning in his stomach like a hot coal. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a wall. None of it would make him feel any better, and he knew it, but the urge was still there. 

 

“I-”he paused, swallowing hard at the lump that had formed in his throat. “I can’t.”

 

Gabriel sighed. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to get Sam to talk, after all the boy had years of covering this up as far as he could tell, but he had to try. 

 

He reached up and held Sam’s chin, trying to get him to keep still. “You can,” Gabriel said lightly, wiping the blood from under Sam’s nose. “I can help you, if you want. If you don’t want my help, you can just talk to me. I’ll listen.” he told him. “Whatever it is, I’ll just listen, but you can’t go on like this, Sam. You’ve come into school like this before. It’s not a one time thing, whoever is hurting you, they could kill you next time.” 

 

Sam flinched at the contact, but didn’t pull away. He let out a shaky, mirthless laugh. “After tonight, he’ll probably try anyways.”

 

How was he supposed to explain everything? How could he even begin to tell anyone, especially the one person that actually seemed to even care about him, that this was all his fault and he’d only gotten exactly what he deserved? Gabriel wouldn’t understand, he wouldn’t see things for what they were. 

 

“I don’t know how, then.” He said after a long pause. “I can’t because I don’t know how.”

 

Gabriel finished cleaning the cuts on Sam’s face, and began to apply ointment to them, being as gentle as he could. He knew Sam didn’t like to be touched, but the cuts had to be cleaned so they wouldn’t get infected, he hoped they wouldn’t scar. 

 

“Start from the beginning then,” Gabriel encouraged. “It doesn’t have to be everything at once. Just like with chemistry, we start at the beginning. Who did this to you?” 

 

He turned his eyes to Gabriel’s, but didn’t say a word. Could he really do this? Could he tell someone? What if his father found out? What if Gabriel tried to go to the police? There were a lot of factors to consider, and Sam wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk. There was something about the man in front of him, though, something in his eyes that made Sam want to open up and spill every secret he’d ever had. That was dangerous, too, thought, because he wasn’t sure that he could close those floodgates once he opened them up. 

 

He took a breath to steady himself, trying to ignore the heavy pounding of his heart. With a shaky sigh, he made his choice.

 

“My father.”

 

Gabriel nodded. He figured as much. Gabriel knew he lived with his father, and that his brother Dean had moved out at some point to be closer to his job. That left Sam and his father alone together. 

 

Gabriel opened a band aid and tried to cover the cuts on Sam’s face that weren’t in awkward places. “You’re doing good, Sammy” he said, offering Sam a small smile. He knew it took a lot for Sam to admit it, he wondered if he had ever admitted to anyone before. “How long ago did it start?” 

 

In his head, Gabriel was considering his options. He could call the police, but he didn’t want to break Sam’s trust, especially when he had had such a vehement reaction to that before. One thing was for certain, he had to do something. 

 

“I don’t know.” Sam replied, his voice low and flat. “Six years, maybe seven.”

 

It felt like so much longer than that. He couldn’t remember a time when his father wasn’t yelling at him or blaming him or beating him for something. Even before the fire, John had been a strict man, always quick to anger. It just got worse when his mother wasn’t there to protect him from it anymore. Saying it out loud though made Sam realize just how long it had been. 

 

“Wasn’t so bad before...before that.”

 

Gabriel took a scootch back and regarded Sam’s face. It looked a lot better without all the blood marring his skin. “That’s it for your face,” Gabriel assessed. “Are you bleeding… anywhere else?” he asked, handing him the first aide kit. “The bathroom is right through the kitchen. We can pick this up after, okay?” 

 

Sam hesitated for a moment, but in the end, he got up and walked out of Gabriel’s sight. Gabriel let out a breath he felt he had been holding since Sam walked in. It was a lot to take in. He had known something was going on, and he had suspected it was something bad, but how had no one noticed before now? How had Sam’s teachers, fuck, his brother, not noticed that something was going on? Gabriel cursed every one of them in his head, promising to himself and to Sam that he wouldn’t fail Sam again. 

 

Sam moved as quickly as he could manage, stripping off his clothes and turning on the shower. He prayed Gabriel wouldn’t mind, but he needed one something awful. He stepped under the steamy spray, his eyes glued to the white tile of the wall in front of him, and let the water wash away the blood and mess that his father had left behind. The anger was returning, swelling up inside him like some great beast ready to explode and destroy everything around him. He grabbed the washcloth that was hanging from the corner rack, covered it with soap that smelled like pure sugar, and began to scrub. He scrubbed himself raw, every inch of his skin turning red and hot, stinging as the water hit it, but still he felt filthy. Would he ever feel clean again?

 

He only stopped when the water ran cold. He rinsed and turned the shower off, then stepped out. He was grateful to see a clean, fluffy grey towel sitting on the closed toilet lid. He hadn’t heard the door open, but Gabriel must have left it there for him because he hadn’t even thought to ask for one before hand. He dried himself slowly, then dressed, avoiding the reflection in the mirror above the sink like it was the plague. He didn’t need to see that he looked like shit to know it was true. He couldn’t look as bad as he felt, though. 

 

He dressed, slipping into a clean pair of underwear and pajama pants, and shoved his other clothes in his duffle. He’d ask if he could wash them later, he thought with a yawn. Everything was starting to catch up to him and he could feel himself starting to really crash. Silently, he padded barefoot into the living room where Gabriel was still sitting on the couch waiting for him. “Sorry I took so long. I figured a shower would be quicker than trying to wipe myself down with alcohol wipes.”

 

“Whatever you need, kiddo,” Gabriel smiled at him. He was glad Sam felt comfortable enough to shower in his home. “Are you hungry? I can fix us a snack while you tell me the rest of the story.” he offered. The kid looked liked he was about to fall over, but it never hurt to have a little food. 

 

Gabriel motioned for Sam to follow him into the kitchen. “Peanut butter and jelly sound good?” he asked. “I wish I had something better, but Sundays are my shopping days and everything else I have is junk food.”

 

He opened his mouth to reply, but his stomach beat him to it. He’d barely eaten all day, and by the loud rumble that came from his midsection, his stomach was not too happy about that. He blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. “That sounds great, actually.”

 

Sam took a seat as the small table and leaned forward onto his elbows. He watched Gabriel move about in silence, trying to straighten out the mess of thoughts that were racing through his mind. He was having a hard time focusing on any one in particular and it was becoming increasingly frustrating.  

 

Gabriel prepared the sandwiches quickly, one heaped with jelly for him, and one that was about even for Sam. He knew Sam didn’t have his sweet tooth, and he didn’t want to make him sick. Finally, he set the sandwiches on the table, and went to the fridge to pour them both a glass of milk to wash the sandwiches down with. It was only after he placed the glass in front of Sam, did he begin to talk again. 

 

“What happened… that made your dad change?” he asked gently, watching Sam carefully. He knew this was going to be hard, talking through all of it, but he thought that it would be better for Sam if someone else knew his secret. Gabriel didn’t know how that fell to him, but he was more than happy to take the responsibility if it meant Sam was safe. It was clear he’d been through enough, Gabriel could at least share his burden. 

 

He picked up his sandwich and took a slow bite, waiting for Sam’s answer. 

 

Sam took a few bites from his own sandwich, chewing slowly then swallowing, before he spoke again.

 

“My mom died when I was a kid. A fire broke out, and she ran in to help me while he went for Dean. By the time she got me up, the fire was outside my door and we couldn’t get out. She opened my bedroom window and helped me out, but then the roof collapsed and she couldn’t get to the window herself. By the time the fire department arrived, it was too late. The whole house was just one big fireball.” He stared at the table the entire time he spoke, but he wasn’t seeing it. He was back there again, watching his home burn, listening to his father scream and his brother cry. He could smell the smoke, so heavy and thick in the air that his lungs burned with it, and he could feel the blistering heat of the flames against his skin.

 

Sam shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. “He always blamed me. After a while, I started to blame myself. If she hadn’t made me go first, if she hadn’t come in after me, she’d still be alive. I’d be dead, but I don’t think anyone would really miss me, ya know?”

 

He’d meant it to sound sardonic, but it was the truth, and his tone held a bitter edge. He took another large bite of his sandwich.

 

Gabriel didn't know what to say. How did you comfort someone who had seen their mother die, and then been blamed for it for years? Sam had lived through hell over and over and Gabriel didn't even know where to begin.  

 

“Your mother wouldn't feel that way,” Gabriel replied after he'd finally managed to find his tongue again. “She pushed you out first for a reason, Sammy. Because she wanted you to live. Your father may be a bastard, but I have no doubts that your mother loved you something fierce, so fiercely that she died to protect you.”  

 

He wasn't finished yet. “And from the way you talk about Dean, I know he would miss you, and I would….” he paused. “I would miss you too.” 

 

Gabriel couldn't stop himself from saying it. This wasn't about him, but Sam had to know that he family weren't the only people that cared for him. It was completely out of line, but Sam needed to know because it sounded from his tone, that the thought that no one would miss him if he was gone wasn't just a one off, but something constant that Sam lived with beneath his skin and Gabriel couldn't bear the thought.  

 

Gabriel liked to think that he and Sam were something other than student and teacher, something better, that they were friends. Gabriel looked forward to when he saw Sam at lunch, when he got to pick his brain and get to know him. Sam had turned this whole experience into more than just something he had to do to get his degree. Sam had made it better. The world would not be better off without Sam Winchester in it, of that Gabriel was sure. 

 

Gabriel’s admission had Sam confused. Why would Gabriel care? Was he just saying that to make Sam feel better? Sam was harboring a crush on the man, sure, so maybe he was just reading more into what Gabriel had said than was really there. He finished his sandwich and washed it down with his glass of milk. 

 

“Yeah…” he muttered finally, leaning back in his seat. “Maybe.”

 

He didn’t know what else to say. It was hard for him to think that anyone cared about him, that anyone would miss him. What was to miss? He was pathetic and worthless and weak. 

Gabriel could see that his admission had shaken Sam, so he decided to cut the questioning short. The kid was bound to be tired after what he'd been through, and Gabriel asking him to bare his soul wasn't making it any better. He collected the plates and cups and dumped them into the sink to deal with tomorrow. 

 

“C’mon I have a pullout couch,” Gabriel told him. “I'll grab some extra pillows and blankets. You can stay here as long as you need to. We can talk more tomorrow, but you look like you're about to pass out.” 

 

Gabriel walked to the closet and pulled some blankets and pillows out of the top for Sam to use. He put them on the chair, and went over to the couch. 

 

The couch was old, it had lived in his grandparents house before it had relocated to his parents’ basement, and then his apartment. The mattress on it had seen better days, but it would do in a pinch. Gabriel took the pillows off, and put them on the floor. With one motion, he yanked the bed up and out, unfolding it gently as it creaked and complained.  

 

“Let me know if you need anything else?” 

 

Sam simply nodded as he covered a yawn with one hand. He didn’t mind the old sofabed. He was really just grateful that Gabriel was letting him stay at all; the man could easily have turned him out, told him to go home, or find someone else. Sam didn’t have anyone else, though. He could have tried going to Dean, but he knew his brother wouldn’t believe him. He’d call him a liar and then he’d call their dad to come and get him. He had no one and that sudden thought hit him like a ton of bricks right in the chest. 

 

“Th-thanks,” he whispered as he grabbed the pillows and blankets from the chair. He sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to ignore the pain that was starting to take over. He wondered if he’d get any sleep at all, but he had to try. With a smile he hoped told Gabriel just how thankful he was, Sam wrapped one of the thicker blankets around himself and laid down. Without even realizing, he curled up tight into a fetal position, letting the warmth of the blanket swallow him up.

 

Gabriel smiled to himself as he watched Sam curl up in the blankets he had given him, and walked back to his own room. He sat back down in his bed, slipping into the warmth he had left almost an hour before, but try as he might, Gabriel couldn’t go back to sleep. 

 

There was too much for him to process, too much floating around in his head to even think about being relaxed enough to sleep. 

 

What he was going to do, for one. 

 

There was a student lying bloody and beaten in his living room. Without the right context, the fact that Sam was even here was problematic. Even though the rules weren’t as rigid for him, because he was still a student himself, he had no doubt that he could get in very serious trouble. The fact that he hadn’t called the police, or an ambulance would be another red flag, if anyone else found out. He could be expelled, or worse. 

 

The fact that he could not ignore, even if he ignored the others, was that he had to tell someone. Sam couldn’t stay here forever, but he also couldn’t go back to his home. He was almost eighteen, would they put him in foster care, or just let him fend for himself? Gabriel had no idea, but he didn’t want to take that chance. Sam wasn’t safe anywhere that his father could get to him. 

 

And then it hit him. He could tell Bobby. 

 

Bobby was a teacher, he had been one for years, surely he could think of something they could do to keep Sam safe. Gabriel knew there was a chance that telling Bobby could come back and bite him in the ass, that him telling Bobby that Sam had spent the night at his house could get

him pulled from his program, but keeping Sam safe was more important, he decided, rolling over in bed. 

 

He just hoped Sam would forgive him.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

[ ](https://imgur.com/xlHShma)

Sam woke up feeling disoriented and sore. He peeked from beneath the blankets and looked around the unfamiliar room, panic welling up inside him. What had happened? Where was he and why was he there?

 

He sat up slowly, forcing himself to take deep breaths, even though it hurt like hell to do so. A picture on the wall above him caught his eye; two boys, probably in their early teens, with a much younger child between them, were smiling into the camera, covered in dirt and soaking wet. Sam knew one of the boys. While he looked much younger, it was obvious to Sam that one of the teens was Gabriel. He would know those whiskey eyes anywhere, he thought with a blush. 

 

That was when it all came back to him, everything that had happened the night before, his father, running away, sharing his secret with Gabriel. His mouth suddenly felt dry, like he’d been licking the sheets in his sleep, and the panic came back for a completely different reason. What if Gabriel had called the police? Or his father? His breaths came out in rapid pants, and he knew he needed to calm himself, but he couldn’t seem to focus on anything more than Gabriel betraying him. Everyone else he’d ever trusted had done so, why would Gabriel be any different?

 

\------- 

 

Gabriel finally had fallen asleep around five am, and when he woke up three hours later, he already knew today was going to be a long day. He went to the bathroom and washed his face, before dressing and heading into the living room to wake Sam. 

 

He was surprised to find Sam already awake, especially after what he had been through the night before. He had half expected the boy to be gone, but he was sitting in the pull-out couch, looking as if he would be sick. The bruises on his face and body looked worse than they had the night before, blooming into yellows, greens and purples across Sam’s skinny frame. The colors would have been pretty if the paintbrush that had put them there wasn't Sam’s father’s fists. 

 

Gabriel wondered how many mornings Sam had woken up like this, bruised and terrified, and he silently vowed that this would be the last one. The look on Sam’s face only solidified Gabriel’s resolve to help him. Once he talked it over with Sam, he was calling Bobby. 

 

“Good morning, Sammy,” Gabriel offered him a smile. “How do you feel today? Want some coffee?” 

 

Sam jerked, coming back to reality at the sound of Gabriel’s voice. He glanced at the older man, letting out a shaky breath. Coffee might be good, he mused, but then his stomach churned again as the panic swirled about inside him, and he doubted he’d be able to keep it down.

 

“Um...I’m okay, I guess,” His tone was flat, his voice somewhat raspy. His throat ached as he spoke and he raised one hand to press against the bruising he was sure was there. He shook his head and shoved back the blankets before standing. He swayed slightly and reached out to steady himself against the wall to his right. Slowly he followed Gabriel into the kitchen, every step deliberate and tense as he tried to avoid causing himself more pain than necessary. 

 

“Just some water, please.” he said softly, relieved when the softer tone didn’t irritate his aching throat as much. He took a seat at the table, curling in on himself as he watched Gabriel move about.

 

Gabriel took a cup from the cupboard and got Sam some water from the fridge, then he set about to making himself some coffee. He had tried in the beginning not getting addicted to coffee, but now that the drink had him in its embrace, there was no escaping it. He poured the grounds into the top, and then added the water, and turned the machine on. 

 

He turned around, leaning gently on the counter. “How are you feeling, physically?” he asked, as his eyes raked Sam’s body, cataloguing the array of bruises that had blossomed in the hours they had slept. He could see a dark uniform band of bruising around his neck, that he would bet his life had been a belt, and there was more bruising on his face. His lips were still puffy and swollen where they had been split, but his nose wasn’t broken, and the black eye wasn’t as bad as it had looked last night. 

 

“Sore, but alive, so I guess that’s a good thing.” He replied softly, shifting in his seat. The bruising he could handle, he was used to that, and the soreness in his chest was nothing new either. He’d caught his father’s boot to the chest a few times more than he’d care to admit. It was the pain that came with sitting that was the worst. It was new and different and it reminded him of what had happened the night before. Every sharp twinge that came with moving brought back that feeling of being dirty, and it left a sour taste in his mouth.

 

He knew he probably needed medical attention, but there was no way in hell he was going to risk going to the hospital and having them call John. He’d finally gotten away. He didn’t think he’d survive if he had to go back.

 

He took a sip from his water glass, the cool liquid feeling like heaven as it slid down his tortured throat. He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the small respite from at least some of the pain. He could feel Gabriel’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t have been bothered to care. If he looked half as bad as he felt, he really couldn’t blame the man. 

 

Gabriel poured himself a cup of coffee and walked across the kitchen to sit next to Sam. He revealed in the smell of it and took a sip, watching Sam carefully. 

 

Last night, he knew what he had to do. He had to tell someone, because he knew that he was not capable of keeping Sam safe by himself. If John Winchester was the bastard Sam said he was, and the bruise proved it for him, he wouldn’t let Sam’s slight stand. Gabriel was afraid that if he came calling, that he wouldn’t be able to stand up for Sam alone. 

 

“I know you said last night that you didn’t want the police involved,” Gabriel began slowly, putting his cup down on the table. “But we have to tell someone. With your permission, I want us to go see Bobby. Show him what happened, together we can think up the best course of action that will keep you safe from your father permanently.” 

 

Gabriel didn’t have any other idea what to do. He knew Bobby knew Sam’s father, but if he knew anything about the man he’d been helping, it was that Bobby wouldn’t let whatever relationship he had with John Winchester obscure his judgement when it came to a student in his care. 

 

Sam felt his entire body tense as Gabriel spoke, the tell-tale prickling of fear running down his spine and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Gabriel hadn’t suggested the hospital again, or the police, but Sam was still on edge. Bobby knew his father, and if he was the same as everyone else in this godforsaken town, he’d hand him over to the sadistic man the moment he walked through his door. He was just Sam’s chemistry teacher after all. It wasn’t like the man actually cared about him beyond teaching him basic chemistry. 

 

“I…” He paused, biting at the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know. What if he calls him? What if he just hands me over?”

 

He kept his eyes on the tabletop, afraid of the disappointment and irritation he knew would be filling Gabriel’s eyes. He was weak and scared and acting like a child, and he was sure Gabriel’s patience with him wouldn’t hold out forever.

 

“I won’t let him,” Gabriel replied. “I promised you would be safe, and I always keep my promises. I know you haven’t spend a lot of time with Bobby, but I have. He cares about his students, and even if he knows your father, once he sees what he’s done, once he knows that my hunch was right, he has no choice but to help.” 

 

Gabriel wanted to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, to physically comfort him in some reassuring way, but after what Sam had been through, he knew it wasn’t the best idea. He kept his distance from him, not wanting to trigger anything. 

 

“He can meet us somewhere and we’ll go from there. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, or like you want to leave, we can leave.” He said, curling his hand around his coffee mug. “We’ll figure something else out. I don’t know what, but we will.” 

 

He knew Sam had every right to be frightened and distrustful of the adults in his life, every single one of them had let him down spectacularly, but Gabriel was determined not to be one of them. He would keep Sam safe if it was the last thing he ever did. 

 

“We can’t hide in my apartment forever, Sammy,” Gabriel took another sip of his coffee. “As long as I’m alive, I won’t let John touch you ever again.” 

 

Sam couldn’t help the bitter laugh that bubbled up in his chest at Gabriel’s promise. He’d been given empty promises before, so what made this any different? 

 

Gabriel made it different, he reasoned, sipping his water. Gabriel had wormed his way into Sam’s life, despite Sam trying to shove him away, and the teen couldn’t deny that hearing Gabriel say that he would protect him made him feel a bit safer. It made him feel...wanted, cared for, worthwhile. It made him feel things he’d never felt in as long as he could remember. He knew he couldn’t spend his entire life being so distrustful of everyone, but it was hard to trust when everyone had let him down. It was hard to see the good when everything he’d known for so long was hell. 

 

With a defeated sigh, Sam gave a short nod, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine, but if he even tries to bring my father in, I’m leaving.”

 

“You got it, kiddo,” Gabriel agreed. “Cross my heart and hope to die. If he does that, you can stay here as long as you need. You’re alway welcome on my couch.” He told him. 

 

He hated how utterly and truly defeated Sam sounded, how beaten and broken down he was. It was sad for someone his age, who should have been full of hopes and dreams for his future, reduced to this. It wasn’t fair. 

 

“I’m going to call him alright?” he asked, standing up with his coffee. “We can meet him for breakfast. There’s a greasy spoon diner not far from here, we can meet him there, sit at a back table. You need to eat, and I’ve got nothing in the fridge.”    
  
He excused himself, and walked into his room. His phone was on the bedside table and he opened it, thumbing through his contacts lists. Finally, he found Bobby’s number and dialed, holding the phone to his ear with shaking hands. 

 

“Singer.” Bobby answered, his voice sounding gruff. 

 

“Hey Bobby, It’s Gabriel. I uhhhhhh…kind of have a problem.”

 

~~~~

Sam didn’t like this. He felt exposed, being out like this. He knew it was irrational, but he was terrified that his father was going to walk through the doors of the diner and demand he come back (Sam couldn’t bring himself to even think of that place as home). He’d taken the inside seat at a booth in the far back corner of the dining room, keeping his eyes on the door in a near manic fashion. He felt somewhat better with Gabriel sitting beside him, blocking him in, despite knowing that if John did show up, there would be very little that Gabriel could do to stop him. 

 

Nervously he rubbed his hand against the back of his neck then pulled up the collar of the flannel shirt he wore to hide the bruising. His face looked bad enough and he didn’t want people to see just how bad the rest of him was. The bell over the door sang out through the diner and Sam tensed, holding his breath. He let it out in a shaky puff when he saw it was just Mr. Singer. He even let himself relax a bit when the door closed behind the man and no one else had followed him through.  

 

“Gabriel. Sam.” Bobby greeted them in his usual gruff voice. He was looking between the pair curiously, but Sam was relieved not to feel judgement in his gaze. It would have been easy to jump to conclusions, he knew, and he was grateful that Mr. Singer didn’t seem the type to do so.

 

Sam simply raised his hand in a small wave as Gabriel returned his greeting.

 

“One of you boys wanna tell me what the hell is going on here?” Bobby asked, getting straight to the point.

 

Sam glanced over at Gabriel as he opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He bit at the inside of his cheek as he close his mouth and turned his gaze back towards the door. 

 

Gabriel went to speak, but his mouth was dry. He picked up his water with a shaking hand and took a sip before talking. 

 

“I will,” Gabriel started. He had tried to organize his thoughts on the way over, but there was no way he could think of saying it that didn’t sound horrible. “Uhh you remember in the beginning of the year, when I thought something might be wrong with Sam?” he asked. “How I asked you about him?” 

 

Bobby nodded, as he sat down, holding out his cup for the waitress with her pot of steaming black coffee. 

 

“There was something wrong,” Gabriel continued. “His father has been beating the hell out of him, Bobby,” he blurted, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. “He showed up at my place last night at three am, looking like he got mugged. We have to do something. Now.” 

 

Gabriel left out the part of how Sam had contacted him, or found out how he lived. He didn’t think that in the grand scheme of things, giving a student his number was really that important. There were more important matters at hand. 

 

Bobby regarded him sternly and then looked at Sam. “Is this true, kid?”

 

Sam could do little more than nod. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his words getting away from him, and he didn’t want to lash out at Bobby. He sipped at his glass of orange juice he’d ordered , his eyes never wavering from their focus on the door. If he looked at Bobby now, he knew the man would be able to see everything. He’d never been good at hiding things, and Bobby was perceptive. Sam wasn’t ready for him to know just how messed up he really was.

 

Bobby let out a heavy sigh as he took a sip from his now steaming mug, and for several minutes, all three were silent. Sam jumped when Bobby slammed a hand down on the tabletop, flinching away and towards Gabriel. 

 

“That sonuvabitch.” Bobby growled under his breath.

 

Gabriel couldn’t help but glare a little. Sam had been through enough, and Gabriel knew his nerves were still raw just from the way he flinched. 

 

“What can we do?” Gabriel asked him. “He can stay with me for as long as he wants, but we need to protect him from that bastard. We need to make sure that he can’t touch him.” 

 

Bobby raised an eyebrow, but then he spoke. “Did you take him to the hospital last night? Call the police?” he asked. 

 

Gabriel shook his head. “No, I didn’t,” he responded. “I wasn’t going to force him to go if he didn’t want to. He’s been through enough, the last thing he needs is strangers poking and prodding him, or handing him over to his father. Is there any other way?” 

 

Bobby took another sip of his coffee. He looked from Gabriel to Sam, and held his eyes for a moment. “I know someone I can talk to, someone who will listen. Sam, do you trust me to talk to her? Do I have your permission?” 

 

Sam looked from Bobby to Gabriel, unsure of how to answer. It made his stomach churn just thinking of Bobby and Gabriel knowing the truth. Did a third person really need to be brought in?

 

“I-I don’t…” he bit at his cheek again. “Who is she?”

 

Sam prayed it wasn’t anyone that knew his father. 

 

“Her name is Ellen Harvell. She works with CPS, and she’s also one of the best damn attorneys I’ve ever met. If you can trust anyone with this, it’ll be her, Sam.”

 

Bobby sounded sincere and Sam wanted to believe him. He wanted someone to do something about his father, because he knew if he did, he’d either end up dead or in prison. With a final sigh, Sam nodded.

 

“Y-yeah. Okay. I don’t really have that many options, so I need all the help I can get, I guess.” He turned his gaze to the table as their food appeared, and picked up his fork. He stuffed his mouth with hashbrowns, hoping it would keep Bobby from asking him anymore questions.

 

“She can’t go to his father,” Gabriel insisted. He had promised Sam that his father wouldn’t be told where he was, and he was going to hammer the point home. Too many people had let Sam down, he would not be one of them. “At all. He has to stay safe.” 

 

“I got it, Gabe,” Bobby said, with what Gabriel thought may have been a small smile. “You have my word. John won’t know what hit him, and Sam will stay far out of harm’s way.” 

 

Gabriel nodded. “I’ll hold you to that, Bobby.” With that out of the way, Gabriel turned towards his pancakes. After all the upheaval of the night before, he found he was suddenly starving. 

 

Bobby finished his coffee and got up. 

 

“Where are you going?” Gabriel wanted to know, through a mouthful of pancakes. 

 

“I don’t do breakfast,” Bobby explained, tossing down a dollar or two. “And if we’re going to pull this off, I got work to do. It’s gunna be okay, Sam. I promise.”

 

Gabriel hoped Bobby was right


	7. Chapter 7

[ ](https://imgur.com/KhugRaY)

Gabriel rubbed his bare hands together, trying to keep warm as he went. The wind was crisp and cold as he walked across the parking lot to retrieve the pizza he had ordered. He pulled the door to the pizzeria  open hard, and practically dove into the warmth of the shop. 

 

His friend Alfie, who was working behind the counter, began to laugh at him as he slid his order across the counter. “Cold out there or what?” he joked, ringing Gabriel up. 

 

“Colder than your mother’s teats, that’s for sure,” he grinned as he got his wallet out of his pocket, taking out a twenty and handing it over to Alfie. 

 

“So, who’s all this pizza for?” Alfie asked, taking his money. “I know you like to eat, but this is a little alarming. You having a party or something? Friday night rager?” 

 

“None of your business,” Gabriel remarked, putting his change back in his wallet. “Maybe I have a hot date.” he waggled his eyebrow, causing Alfie to laugh

 

“You found a girl that can eat a whole pizza? She have a friend you can introduce me to?” Alfie chuckled, as Gabriel picked up the three pizzas, one meat, one hawaiian and one veggie, with one hand.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gabriel teased, opening the door and heading back out into the cold. He didn’t want to think about the date had turned down with the easy girl in his economics class in order to be here. 

 

He was beyond grateful that it wasn’t that far from the pizzeria to his destination, because his van’s heat didn’t work, and he didn’t think he could drive with the pizzas on his lap.  They sat shotgun instead. 

 

His breath puffed in the air as he pulled out of the parking lot and turned down the street, hunched over to try and conserve his body heat. One of these days he would get his heater fixed, when he had time, right after he re-alphabetized his bookshelf and organized his sock drawer. 

 

Five minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of a worn but warmly lit house, and parked behind the beaten pick-up truck and a motorcycle. He grabbed the pizza from the car and headed inside. 

 

“Sammmyyyy, I’m hoommmmeee,” he sang out, as he pushed the door open with a theatrical flourish, earning a snort from one side of the living room.  

 

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle as he entered the cozy living room from the kitchen. He’d heard the van as it had made its way up the driveway, and figured he’d go ahead and grab them both drinks. Bobby was sitting off to one side of the room, tucked comfortably behind an old oak desk that was covered in books and papers he was grading. The gruff science teacher had made it very clear when he’d taken over as Sam’s guardian almost a month before that he was not to go near that desk, or the papers it contained. The last thing either of them wanted was for someone to think that Sam was cheating or that Bobby was being biased towards him.

 

“Shut the damn door before you let all the heat out, ya idjit!” Bobby growled, but there was no malice in his voice, and Sam could see the corners of his lips tugging upwards slightly. Regardless, he was grateful when Gabriel quickly shut the front door, blocking off the bitter cold air that had been blowing in behind him. 

 

“I got drinks,” Sam raised two cans of soda before setting them on the coffee table. His books and homework were already spread across the surface of the scratched wood and a pile of pillows served as his seat on the floor between it and the worn couch. 

 

He’d been a bit upset at first when Gabriel had suggested they stop meeting during lunch. He had been terrified that Gabriel was cutting him out completely. After the events back in September, Sam really couldn’t have blamed the man, but the thought that he would just give up on him had stung more than the teen cared to admit to anyone. Gabriel must have sensed this, because a moment later he’d been rushing to inform Sam that Bobby had agreed to let them hold their sessions at his (and now Sam’s) home in the evenings. It would give them more time, Gabriel had reasoned, and they no longer had to worry about other students dropping in on them. Relieved, Sam had agreed, but now he was missing their time together. They were never alone anymore, and he knew that made sense from a logical standpoint, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Things just weren’t the same with Bobby sitting two yards away.

 

“Pizza smells amazing,” Sam beamed at Gabriel as he took the boxes so the man could remove his outer layer of protection from the cold. 

 

Gabriel happily relinquished their dinner to Sam, and took off his coat. He hung it over the back of the couch, and went to grab some plates from Bobby’s sparse kitchen. He took a steaming slice of meat pizza, and delivered it to Bobby, as if he were some sort of god who must be appeased. Bobby grunted his thanks and went back to grading papers. 

 

Gabriel had been initially skeptical about this arrangement when Bobby became Sam’s guardian, but so far, Bobby had done nothing but prove that skepticism for naught. Despite the weirdness of Sam living with his chemistry teacher, he was safe, and that in Gabriel’s mind, was more important than everything else. 

 

He took a slice of pineapple pizza for himself and sat down on Bobby’s threadbare plaid couch, placing it down between the papers that Sam had fanned out across the table. He watched as Sam took a piece of veggie, and sat down on his normal pile of pillows. Bobby’s house was warm, but it wasn’t big and it was clear that Bobby had lived by himself for sometime, and had meant to keep it that way. But Gabriel was forever grateful for the way he’d opened his home to Sam without a second thought.

 

Bobby hadn’t been lying when he’d said Ellen was good at her job. After Bobby had spoken to her about Sam’s case, she had leapt into action, and the next thing Gabriel knew, Sam was living in Bobby’s house and they hadn’t heard anything from John Winchester since. 

 

Gabriel took a bite of his pizza, flicking his eyes from Bobby to Sam. Bobby was the one who had originally come up with this arrangement, and even though Gabriel understood that this made more sense, and was better for Sam in the long run, it didn’t mean there weren’t parts of it he didn’t like. It was unnerving having Bobby looking over his shoulder, and having another person in the room meant none of the conversations they used to have when they were alone. He missed it more than he knew he should. 

 

“So did you start this weekend’s homework?” 

 

Sam had filled his plate with three slices of veggie pizza and plopped back down into his nest of pillows. His shoulder was almost brushing Gabriel’s thigh and their closeness was not lost on him. He could almost feel the heat from the other man’s body against his skin. He swallowed, then took a large bite of pizza to distract himself. 

 

“Mmhmm,” He hummed as he nodded and chewed. He sat the plate on his lap and reached for the right papers with his non-greasy hand, moving it closer so Gabriel could look it over. He’d managed most of it on his own, but he was still having a hard time getting the calculations right when it came to molar ratios. He’d asked Bobby to explain it, but it hadn’t gotten any clearer the tenth time than it had been the first, and Sam was close to frustration. 

 

“I get the concepts,” he finally said, pointing to the paper with his pinky as he lifted a slice of pizza to his lips. “It just the math that keeps throwing me off. I just don’t get it.”

 

He glanced over when he heard Bobby huff and rolled his eyes. He didn’t mind the arrangement, really. He was safe, and Bobby actually seemed to genuinely care about whether or not he was alright, which was a nice change for Sam. It had been awkward at first, but after a few weeks, they’d settled into a fairly smooth routine. Sam just wasn’t used to suddenly having someone ask him things, like how is day had gone, or how he was feeling. He’d never had someone care enough to make him sit down and talk with a therapist twice a week, and he honestly never expected to have anyone to wake him from his nightmares and try to calm him down. 

 

He’d come to the startling realization just the day before that Bobby Singer had been a better father to him in two months than John Winchester had in seventeen years. He’d locked himself in his room and spent the whole day crying over that fact, and after he’d finally come out for dinner, he’d hugged Bobby for a solid minute as he told him how grateful and appreciative he was of the man. 

 

Sam shook his head, bringing himself back to the present as he looked up at Gabriel over his shoulder, watching the man eat as he looked over the papers in front of him. 

 

Gabriel looked over Sam’s answers as he chewed. Even though he wasn’t acing the class by any means, there was still a marked improvement over where he had started at the beginning of the year. With each and every tutoring session , Sam seemed to gain more of an understanding of the subject matter, and that was more than enough. 

 

What was better still was the confidence that Sam was gaining just being around people who actually cared for him. Gabriel had noticed the marked difference at school at first, he was sticking his hand up in class more often, and then his social life, where he began to actually interact with the people around him instead of just allowing them to talk at him. Gabriel knew Sam still had a long way to go, but this was a start, and that made him happy. 

 

He tried not to think about the minor (at least in his opinion) crush he had developed on Sam. It had been there before, but without the focus of Sam’s physical well-being, his affection for him was burgeoning in ways he couldn't accept. For that one reason, he was a little glad Bobby was there. 

 

“Here, I'll do one of them step by step, and then you can go through the rest,” Gabriel offered, putting down his plate and taking up a piece of paper and a pencil. 

 

Sam nodded, watching Gabriel’s hand move across the page as he finished a slice of his veggie pizza. He had to shake himself when he realized he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to what Gabriel was actually doing, but was, instead, quite plainly staring at his hand. Moreso, he couldn’t keep himself from thinking about how soft those hands were, or how they might feel against his cheek, or his neck, or - no, he chided himself silently. ‘Focus, learn; he’s unavailable and he wouldn’t want a pathetic, worthless little bitch like you anyways.’

 

Sam forced himself to focus on Gabriel’s words instead. He could feel Bobby’s gaze on them, but every time he looked over towards the man, his eyes were turned down to focus on the test papers in front of him. Maybe he was just being paranoid, Sam thought. Surely Bobby didn’t know about the minuscule (but steadily growing) crush Sam was harboring for the Student Teacher. How could he?

 

He shook his head again slightly and tuned in to what Gabriel was actually saying about the problem. It still didn’t make much sense to him, but seeing Gabriel’s problem all worked out made it easier at least for him to work backwards and figure it out without admitting he hadn’t been listening. 

 

After he had finished explaining the problem, he handed the pencil off to Sam, hoping that what he’d said had sunk it. Sam was a bright kid, and although he seemed to have a mental block when it came to chemistry, Gabriel still had faith that if he practiced hard enough, he could learn it, at least enough to pass the class and not dent his GPA too badly. 

 

Gabriel took another slice of pizza as he watched Sam begin to work on the other problems. He had to admit Bobby’s couch was a lot more comfortable than the hard plastic of the school’s desk, and much more inviting. Sam seemed so relaxed here, more at ease now that he wasn’t being abused or forced to do chores instead of his homework. Gabriel wanted to talk to Sam more, to see how he was doing, but between Bobby watching him both here and at school, he hadn’t had a chance. 

 

He chewed his pizza thoughtfully, in his own little world until finally Sam finally tapped his leg and he looked up. Gabriel put his pizza down and wiped his hands on a napkin, before picking up Sam’s homework to check it. He scanned the paper, checking each problem for errors. There was evidence of eraser marks but he’d gotten them in the end. 

 

Gabriel beamed at Sam. “Great job, kiddo! You got them all right!” He resisted the urge to fluff his hair or pat his arm, knowing how much he hated being touched. Gabriel didn’t blame him after what he’d endured in his short life. 

 

Bobby grunted and got up, grabbing his coat and his cigarettes from the table, and made his way outside. Gabriel waited until he heard the back door close before turning to Sam. 

 

“So how are you, Sammy? How are you liking it here?” 

 

Sam relaxed a fraction as Bobby left the room. It wasn't that he hated the man or feared him, but there was always something about the way Bobby looked at him that made Sam tense. Like the man wasn't sure what to do with him, and that left Sam terrified that he'd be sent back to live with John at some point. He was always on his best behavior around the gruff old man, and always just a bit too tense to be comfortable. 

 

“It's not bad. Mr. Singer is strict, but he's fair, and he always makes sure I've done my homework and that I eat enough and get enough sleep. I just-” Sam paused looking down at his fingers as they fidgeted in his lap. 

 

“I guess I'm just being paranoid.” He said softly. “I'm afraid that, if I mess up or do something wrong, he'll make me go back...there.”

 

Sam hadn't even told his therapist that, and he wasn't entirely sure why he was telling Gabriel beyond the fact that he trusted him. Gabriel had never let him down, had never lied to him, had never used him or used his preferences against him. Not like other people had throughout his life.

 

He swallowed, keeping his eyes on his hands, afraid to look up and see the disappointment or the annoyance in Gabriel's eyes. He knew he was being an irritant, that he was being whiny, but he couldn't help it. 

 

“Bobby wouldn't do that, Sammy,” Gabriel tried to reassure him. He knew that Sam’s issues with trust couldn't be solved in two months. It would take months, more likely years for him to work through them, if he ever got through them at all. But Gabriel had faith. Sam was one of the strongest people he'd ever known, if anyone who could do it, it was Sam. 

 

“I know he doesn't show it, and he can be difficult to understand, but beneath that gruff exterior, he really does care. He wouldn't have you here if he didn't.” 

 

Forgetting himself for a second, he laid a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I wouldn't let him either. I meant what I said when I promised you'd never go back there. You can always stay with me.” 

 

It broke Gabriel’s heart to think that even though he was safe, he was still on his guard, still terrified that the people in his life might abandon him if he made one false move. 

 

Sam stiffened briefly before leaning into Gabriel’s touch. His hand was warm, even through the material of Sam’s shirt, and it did very little to drive away his inappropriate thoughts. 

 

“Thanks,” he looked up at Gabriel with a crooked, though somewhat tight, smile. Sam didn’t want to think about where he would be without Gabriel. ‘Probably dead, or close to it,’ his mind supplied, and he knew it wasn’t far from the truth. Now, because of the golden eyed man sitting next to him, Sam knew he would live to see his 18th birthday, that he would pass chemistry and graduate, that he would get to go to college and actually become something. 

 

Gabriel had saved him, and Sam honestly didn’t know how on earth he would ever be able to repay him. 

 

Gabriel pulled his hand away slowly. “Just making sure,” he added. “You can text me you know, if you ever wanted to just talk. Doesn't need to be an emergency or anything.” 

 

He grinned at the last statement, just to let Sam know he was joking. He really did miss their conversations, and the ease with which they interacted. What had happened had brought them closer, but it had also served to put a wall between them, and that wall was Bobby. 

 

Gabriel could hear him now, putting out his cigarette under his foot on the back porch. He'd be walking through the kitchen any second, and they'd go back to student and tutor, back to the respectful space between them.  

 

Bobby walking in, taking off his coat and walking back towards his desk to finish his grading. 

 

Gabriel offered Sam a sad, knowing smile. “So where were we?” 

 

\-------

Since he’d gotten away from his father, the days had begun to fly by for Sam. He was so busy with school and so focused on not letting his crush on Gabriel get out of hand, that before he knew it, it was December and snow was blanketing the ground. He’d taken to riding in with Bobby during the week, and usually rode home with him as well. His bike didn’t do so well with the slush or the ice. 

 

Some days, usually the bad days, he chose to walk, claiming he needed some time alone, time to clear his head. That day had been one of the worst days he’d had in awhile. He was tired, hadn’t slept the night before because of the nightmares, and he’d come close to losing it when he’d received his midterm grade for history. He’d been working so hard, and somehow he’d only managed a high C for the semester. He’d had to force back tears and spent the rest of the day berating himself for being so stupid. He worried about what Bobby’s reaction might be when he found out, or worse yet, Gabriel’s reaction. The one person he couldn’t stand to disappoint was Gabriel, and even after he’d begun to acknowledge how much the man had come to mean to him, he still didn’t understand how or when it had happened. 

 

Sam shuffled his boot along the sidewalk, kicking away a bit of slush and ice-melt. He couldn’t keep it a secret; Bobby kept track of his grades and even if Sam didn’t tell him, Mr. Novak, his history teacher, would. He was so engrossed inside his own mind that he barely heard the familiar rumble of the engine as it idled beside him. 

 

“Sammy?” 

 

He cringed at the sound of his name, turning to see his brother leaning out of the driver’s side window of the black ‘67 Impala. He huffed softly. ‘Just one more thing to make the day worse.’

 

He’d spoken to Dean a few times over the past few months, but the older Winchester just didn’t seem to understand. He kept telling Sam to ‘go home,’ to ‘man up,’ and ‘stop being such a little bitch.’ It had been the last one that had made Sam throw his phone across the living room one evening, his face red with rage as his heart hammered in his ears. Bobby hadn’t even been upset once Sam had explained, and had been more than willing to get him a new-ish phone. 

 

“Sam!” Dean’s sharp yell made him flinch and miss a step, causing him to slip on a slick patch of ice. He stumbled, trying to regain his balance, but it was no use. He ended up on the ground, his backside smarting from the impact. He turned to his brother with a glare as he pushed himself upright, his jeans now soaked through.

 

“What?” He snapped with a growl, unaffected by the look of shock and concern on his brother’s face. Who was he to suddenly be concerned? Why now? Why not when their father began beating him years before he’d even thought of moving out? Why not when Sam had tried to tell him what had happened nearly three months before?

 

He wasn’t prepared for Dean to stop the car and climb out of it. 

 

Dean parked the car on the side of the road and crossed the street to where Sam was pulling himself up off the pavement. He’d hadn’t meant to scare his brother, but when he saw him just walking there, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to talk to him. 

 

Dean had tried to talk to him on the phone, but Sam had resisted him, going as far as to hang up on him. Any plea Dean made for Sam to come home, or at least try and talk to their father had fallen on deaf ears. Dean had always known that Sam had inherited their mother’s stubborn streak but this was getting ridiculous. Sam belonged at home, with his father and brother, not with someone who didn’t have the sense to butt out of their family matters. Dean had always had respect for Bobby Singer, but he didn’t understand why he thought Sam was his concern or his business.  

 

John Winchester wasn’t the warm cuddly type, but he was still Sam’s father. Sure, he was hard on him, and he demanded respect, but Dean couldn’t believe the lies that Sam had tried to pawn off on him. Dean had felt the back of John’s hand more times than he could count, but he didn’t go running off to tell his teacher every time John saw fit to discipline him. John had had a hard life after their mother died, especially with a boy as sensitive and soft as Sam was. He’d lost his wife, and sometimes he couldn’t help it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love Sam. John just wasn’t the best at showing it. 

 

Dean walked up to his brother and offered him a hand, but Sam didn’t take it. He pushed himself up, and dusted himself off. 

 

“Sammy,” Dean began, before he lost his nerve. His brother had never looked at him with such raw hate before in his eyes. “You gotta come home. Look, I’ll come with you, we can talk to Dad, and it’ll all be okay. C’mon, come home.” 

 

“John Winchester is not my ‘dad,’ and that hell hole has never been my home,” Sam replied plainly, shifting his bag up on his shoulder. He knew he should just walk away, that he should just brush his brother off and keep going, but something kept him from doing so. It was like an itch beneath his skin that he couldn’t scratch and the longer he thought about it, the more it itched and the hotter his skin grew. He realized suddenly that it was rage. He’d never felt true rage before. Sure he’d been angry, hell, he’d considered offing John Winchester as he lay on his bedroom floor with his pants around his ankles, but it hadn’t felt like this. 

 

Without another word, he turned towards his brother and threw the punch he’d been wanting to throw for what felt like forever, landing a solid right hook to Dean’s left cheek. He pulled back a second later, staring at his own fist in shock, then at Dean. 

 

“And you can tell John Winchester to go fuck himself. Maybe then he’ll know how I feel.” He muttered as he backed away, losing what bravado he’d mustered. 

 

“What the fuck, Sam?” Dean sputtered, as he reeled from the fact that his brother had just punched him in the face. His cheek throbbed and he knew from the tightness under his eye that it would be black later. “I know living with Dad was hard, but really? You could have told me. I lived with him too remember?” 

 

Once he’d recovered from the shock, Dean was livid. All they had was family, and that family was small, only the three of them. The fact that Sam had gone for help outside of his family instead of going to his brother stung Dean more than he cared to admit. He was Sam’s big brother, Sam had taken his first steps holding his hand, he’d taught him how to ride a bike, how to fix his motorcycle. He’d taught Sam everything worth knowing, and he’d accepted him when he realized that Sam wasn’t interested in girls. It had been hard to understand at first, but he did it because Sam was his brother and he loved him. That love trumped everything, or that’s what they had been taught. Clearly Sam had missed the memo. 

 

“We can work it out, I swear,” Dean tried again, this time staying out of arm’s reach in case Sam decided to throw another punch his way. “He’s changed. I talked him about it and it’ll be better this time.” 

 

“What aren’t you getting about this, Dean?” Sam asked, his voice higher than he would have liked it to be. “There is nothing to ‘work out.’ I’m not going back there. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.”

 

He turned to walk away, but stopped and looked back at his brother. 

 

“For the record, I shouldn’t have had to tell you. You lived under the same roof, ignored the beatings and the name calling, for years. Hell, you joined in. You want to know why I didn’t come to you three months ago? Because I knew you wouldn’t believe me, and I was right. You’re always going to defend him, not matter what he does or says, because for some reason, you think blood means family. You’ve always been his favorite, always his perfect little soldier, doing everything he says, copying everything he does.” Sam’s chest was tight, his breathing labored as his voice began to grow louder and louder. 

 

“You do me one favor, Dean. You stop, and for once in your life, open your damn eyes. See him for who he is and stop idolizing the bastard before you turn into him, because once you do, there is no coming back, and there is no changing. Now, leave me the hell alone.” Sam shifted his bag once more and walked away, shivering as the cold air bit at his slush-covered lower half.

 

“Sam!” Dean called after him one last time, but his brother didn’t turn around. He kept walking and did not turn back for as much as a parting glance. Dean smothered the urge to yell at him, to scream and carry on. He wouldn’t be reduced to crawling after him if Sam didn’t want to listen. Dean didn’t have a lot of pride, but he still had too much to grovel. He stomped off towards the Impala, grinding his teeth with every step. 

 

He flung the door open and sat behind the wheel for a moment, the wheels in his head turning as he let Sam’s accusations sink in. He grew angrier and angrier the more he thought about it, at John, at Sam, but mostly at himself. Because Sam was right. Just because John had beat him too, didn’t make what he did to Sam right. 

 

Dean had failed at the most important job he had; protecting his brother. 

 

With that thought eating at him, he spun the wheels and drove away to talk to his father. 

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

[ ](https://imgur.com/ysxSE29)

 

Sam had been shaken up over the incident with Dean for days. His knuckles had bruised from the punch, and every time he flexed his fingers, the resulting pain would remind him of how it had happened. Bobby had noticed, and after hours of badgering, Sam had finally broken down and told him what had happened. He hadn’t expected Bobby to tell him afterwards that he was proud of him for what he’d done.

As he sat in his usual seat one morning, a few days later, waiting for class to start, Sam couldn’t help but smile a bit as he stretched his right hand out. The pain had lessened and the bruising was mostly healed, just yellow splotches now. Despite his worry, Sam felt good about things. Better than he had in a long time. He’d stood up for himself and, as Bobby had told him Friday night as he tossed a bag of frozen peas at him, that was definitely something worth being proud of.

He hadn’t seen Gabriel since, as it had been the weekend, and he was somewhat worried about what the other’s reaction would be when he finally did. He glanced up at the clock, wondering where the Student Teacher was. He was usually there before Sam. Was he sick? Had something happened? Sam hoped that he’d have at least texted him if that were the case. His eyes darted from the clock to the door for what seemed like the hundredth time.

~~~~~~

Gabriel was running late. Everything that could possibly go wrong this morning had. First, his alarm hadn’t gone off, and then there was no hot water in the shower. After that, his coffee pot had broken, so he was forced to stop at Starbucks on the way because it was the only place that served drinkable coffee between his place and the high school. Bobby was going to skin him alive for being late, he thought as he sped to school, pushing his van to the highest possible speed it would go and not get him pulled over. He had barely stopped the car before hurdling out of it, hot coffee sloshing all over his arm as he slipped and skidded in the icy parking lot. December was a busy time for teachers, grading and midterms to be given, and Gabriel hoped that Bobby wouldn’t punish him by forcing him to hold any additional tutoring sessions, on top of the ones he was already holding plus his sessions with Sam.

Gabriel sped down the hall, fast walking as quickly as his short legs would carry him. In the back of his mind, he hoped that Sam wasn’t worried about him, although part of his brain chided him for thinking he was that important to Sam in order to be missed.

He could hear Bobby starting class as he sprinted down the hallway, his voice booming and echoing in the hallway. Gabriel slipped in the door, offering Bobby a sheepish grin as he hurried to his seat. He turned to catch Sam’s eye before anyone else could notice, and winked at him.

Sam let out a sigh of relief as Gabriel scurried into the room. He had to bite back a chuckle, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep the noise that was bubbling up in his throat at bay. He dipped his head, roughly clearing his throat, then looked back up in time to catch Gabriel’s wink. Sam couldn’t help but shake his head, making a show of rolling his eyes. As stealthily as he could, he pulled his cell from his pocket and typed out a quick message.

_You’re late._

He hit send and shoved the phone back in his pocket as he started copying the notes Bobby was currently writing out on the board at the front of the room, looking for all the world as if he couldn’t have cared less.

Gabriel felt his phone buzz and took it out under his desk. He suppressed the urge to stick out his tongue at Sam. Leave it to him to kick a man when he was down. Making sure Bobby was fully engaged with writing, Gabriel quickly typed out his reply

_Sorry Your Highness. Not all of us are morning people like you._

He quickly covered his phone with his notebook, pretending to be deeply engrossed with Bobby’s lesson. He jotted down a few bullet points for later, so he knew what to do over when it was time for their tutoring session. Gabriel liked to think that he knew Sam well enough to be able to kind of predict what he was going to find hard in each lesson. With a few exceptions, he’d done well so far.

Sam pulled his phone out when he felt it vibrate in his pocket, never pausing in his note-taking. He glanced down at his phone and let out a soft huff of amusement. He glanced up to make sure Bobby was still busy before typing back.

_Your Highness? That’s the best you’ve got?_

He tapped send, but decided to type out a second message to follow the first.

_I was worried something had happened. _/__

____

____

He sent the message before he could lose his nerve and erase it. He didn’t want to let on that he had feelings for the university student, but at the same time, he liked to consider Gabriel a friend and he had to let him know that he cared enough to worry.

Gabriel couldn’t suppress the smile that lit up on his face reading the last part of Sam’s text. He looked up, hoping quickly that Sam hadn’t seen him, but Sam was currently looking down at his notes, scribbling along with Bobby’s words. Gabriel straightened his face, and waited until Bobby looked away to reply.

_No need to worry, Kiddo. I’m a big boy :)_

As much as he could try and hide the look on his face, there was no way he could stop the flutter in his stomach. Sam was worried about him. He tried to shove the butterflies that were dancing in his belly away, tried to tell them to go away, but they were not listening to him, floating higher as he caught sight of Sam looking his way.

Blushing, he looked down, hiding his phone under his books again.

Sam could feel his cheeks flush as he read Gabriel’s text. While he was sure the other had meant it in the most innocent way possible, Sam couldn’t keep his mind from slipping into the gutter. He shifted in his seat, trying his best to ignore the feelings that were settling in his stomach, and let out a shuddering breath.

_Worrying is my specialty. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got all that many people left that I care about enough to worry over._

He returned to his notes, sneaking quick glances at Gabriel every few minutes from behind the curtain of his hair. He was nervous to see Gabriel’s reaction to his words. He’d never actually told anyone he cared about them, and he guessed that was almost as deep an emotion as loving someone was.

Once Bobby was writing on the board again, Gabriel slid his phone back out from underneath his notebook and read the text Sam had sent him. He read it once, twice, three times, his heart pounding in his ears. Sam couldn’t… no not after… no that wasn’t… He had to be reading too much into Sam’s words. That was the only possibility that made sense in Gabriel’s mind. He had to be pushing his sick thoughts onto Sam if he thought Sam cared for him like he cared about Sam.

He didn’t reply, instead staring down at the notes he had taken. He didn’t read them, the words not making sense in his head in that moment. Sam couldn’t have meant it that way, he chided. Get a hold of yourself, Gabriel. If Sam even felt a fraction of what he felt for Sam, it was because Gabriel had protected him, not because of anything else. Gabriel was his friend, his confidant, nothing more. That was what Sam meant.

He looked up at Sam swifty and then down at his phone again.

_We should stop. Bobby almost saw me._

It was far from the reaction Sam had hoped for. He’d felt himself tense as he watched Gabriel read his text, but the resulting look of confusion that had flitted over his face had done little to help Sam relax. He’d said too much, he thought as the previously warm feeling in his stomach turned into a heavy, burning stone and sank to the bottom. He’d messed up. He wasn’t sure how, but he’d messed up. Gabriel was probably not never going to talk to him again. He was probably feeling as disgusted with Sam as Sam was with himself.

Because, really, what the hell did he have to offer anyone? He was the epitome of damaged goods, and it wasn’t as if he could keep that a secret. Everyone knew, to some extent or another. Self-loathing crept up his spine like a thousand insects, making his skin itch and crawl. No one would ever want someone as fucked up as him, especially not someone like Gabriel.

“Idiot,” he growled to himself as he shoved his phone into his bag. “Worthless idiot.”

The rest of the period passed slowly, and Gabriel kept trying to catch Sam’s eye, but the boy wouldn’t let him. He didn’t like how violently Sam had shoved his phone into his bag after his last text. Gabriel knew he had fucked up, and he waited on pins and needles until the period was over so he could talk to Sam and fix what he had said.

The bell rang and Gabriel watched as Sam got up and made a beeline for the door, his face downcast. Gabriel tried to follow him, but the crowd of students make it almost impossible for him to get to Sam while he was still in the classroom. Gabriel shimmied in and out of the throng of chattering kids, trying his hardest to catch up to Sam, all the while berating himself for his stupidity and cowardice.

With all the progress Sam had made, Gabriel had forgotten that he was still fragile, still skeptical of any kind of offered affection. Sam had given Gabriel a piece of his trust, his heart, and Gabriel had crushed it. He had to make it right. He didn’t know how he would live with himself if Sam closed them off again because of his fuck-up.

“Sam!” he called down the hallway, hoping Sam would turn around and give him a chance to explain.

Sam gritted his teeth and came to a halt several doors down from the chemistry classroom. He snapped out an apology at the kid that had run into the back of him, and turned around. He waited until the mass of students thinned before he made any move towards Gabriel. When he did, his steps were short and shuffling, his eyes fixed on the floor as he shrugged his bag up.

He didn’t say anything. He was too scared of what might come out if he tried. No, Gabriel could speak first and he would respond. That was best for everyone. When the other made no move to do so, Sam glanced up at him. The silence was tense, almost deafening to him, and he opened his mouth to ask what he wanted, just to break it. He never managed to utter a word as the hallway filled with a thundering voice he knew all too well.

He looked back only long enough to see John Winchester storming down the hall in his direction, his face contorted in the look of rage that Sam had grown so used to so long ago. He’d hoped he would never have to see his father again, or at least if he did, he’d be ready and able to stand up to the man that had been his tormenter for so long. Now was not that time, Sam realized, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them from trembling. Fear welled up inside him, the same fear he’d felt all those nights ago when he’d be certain that he wasn’t going to live to see the morning, and despite his best efforts, he cringed as the man yelled his name.

“You little piece of shit!” John growled as he rounded on Sam, shoving him back against the lockers with enough force to make them all rattle.

Gabriel didn’t hesitate. He didn’t spare one second to think about how much bigger and angrier John Winchester was than him, he just leapt into action.

Gabriel wedged himself in between Sam and his father, pushing Sam back so that he had a route of escape into an empty classroom. He had no thoughts of himself, the only thought in his head was to keep Sam safe as long as he could. Gabriel had always known he wasn’t a fighter. He was small and out of shape, he’d never punched anyone in his life, and he knew that he would probably go down with the first hit, but none of that mattered.

“I’m going to give you one chance to leave, Mr. Winchester,” Gabriel said, trying to sound a lot more confident than he felt. He really hoped that someone else had gone for help. “You get one chance to turn around and walk back out of this school.”

He turned his head, so he could see Sam cowering behind him out of the corner of his eye. “Sammy, go in the classroom and lock the door.” he told him, making sure he didn’t take his eyes off of John Winchester. He knew what the man was capable of, remembering the sorry state in which Sam had come to his door months ago. That was a beating he was prepared to take.

John Winchester wasn’t cowed by Gabriel’s words, he didn’t move at all, just stared Gabriel down with his bloodshot, rheumy eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without him.”

Sam swallowed hard, trying to decide what to do. He wanted to run, to hide like the scared little kid he was, but the idea of Gabriel taking even one blow from his father’s fist made his chest ache horrible. His gaze didn’t move from the two men in front of him, but he could see movement out of the corner of his eyes. A moment later, John was being pulled backwards, stumbling as he was pushed off balance.

“Get him outta here,” Bobby ordered Gabriel as he blocked the path between John and the other two. Bobby began talking, trying to calm John down most likely, but Sam was having a hard time making out what he was saying as Gabriel took hold of his arm and steered him towards the closest empty classroom. A second later, they were both behind a locked door and he could hear John yelling again.

Sam all but collapsed against the door, sliding down to sit on the floor with his knees to his chest as he struggled to breathe. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, his brain kept repeating. Someone was going to get hurt and it would be all his fault. Shit!

Gabriel’s first instinct was the comfort Sam physically, to pull him into his arms and tell him everything would be alright. But he didn't want to cause Sam any more distress than he was already in. He sat down on the floor next to him, close but not touching.

“Sam,” he said quietly. “Sammy, listen to me. It’s going to be okay.” He told him, hoping that he could calm him down. “Bobby will take care of him. He's not going to hurt you again. You're safe, I swear.”

Sam didn't say anything. He just curled in on himself, as if he was trying to make himself small enough to disappear.

“I'm sorry...about before,” Gabriel said finally, not knowing what else to say. Everything else sounded empty to him, like nothing promises while voices raised outside the door. “The truth is, I worry about you too, Sam. Constantly actually,” he admitted, moving closer. “You're important to me. You're my friend, even though I know it's inappropriate for me to say it.”

He kept trying. “I care about keeping you safe.”

Without a word, Sam turned, burying his face in Gabriel’s chest. His entire body was shaking and he clung to Gabriel with everything he had. His words filled Sam with warmth, but he was slow to accept them. He could only handle being hurt so many times in such a short amount of time, after all.

“Wanna go,” was all Sam could manage to say. He didn’t really care where they went, so long as they were far, far away from the screaming and yelling and slamming of lockers that were currently filling the air. Even behind the thick wooden door, he could hear every words his father yelled.

“Ungrateful little bastard - turned my only son against me - piece of shit’ll pay for this!”

Sam cringed, his fingers tightening their hold in the fabric of Gabriel’s shirt. He thought maybe hearing his father blatantly disown him would hurt, but it didn’t. It didn’t feel like anything, really.

Gabriel gently wrapped an arm around Sam, as he clung to him, pulling him in closer. “I know, kiddo,” Gabriel responded softly. “Why don’t we move to the back of the room?”

 

Sam nodded, and Gabriel helped him off the floor. Sam didn’t let go of him, and Gabriel led the way across the room, as far away from the door as they could get. The door was locked, they were safe, but there was no way out of the classroom. Gabriel sat them down in the corner, easing Sam and himself onto the floor, not letting go of him for even a second.

He rubbed Sam’s back, trying his best to comfort him. He wasn’t the best at this, and he had no idea what he should be doing other than just being here with Sam. The screaming coming from beyond the door was muffled now, and slowly, it petered out into nothing. Finally, Gabriel heard a key being put into the lock, and Bobby walked in, his face blotchy and red.

He looked at them, and Gabriel scrambled from the floor, shame spreading through him like wild fire.

“Gabriel, I need you to take Sam home,” Bobby instructed. “Stay with him until Ellen and I get there.”

“Yes sir,” Gabriel replied. His things, including his car keys were still in Bobby’s classroom and he needed them to get Sam home. He was only gone a couple of minute, just dashing down the hall and grabbing his bag, avoiding the looks over the students and other teachers. By the time he got back, Sam was on his feet.

“Ready to go?”

Sam nodded mutely, scrubbing at his tear stained face with the back of one shirt sleeve. His bag hung at his side, his fingers clutching so tight around the strap that his knuckles were white. He shuffled towards Gabriel with his eyes downcast, his face hidden by his hair. He didn’t want anyone to see how weak he was, or that his eyes were red and his face was blotchy from crying.

At the same time, he was barely holding it together. Sam didn’t know how long he could keep that way, either. It had taken everything he had to stand up after Gabriel had left the room, especially with Bobby staring at him with that look on his face (something between concern, pity, and suspicion). Shame burned through him at his lack of control and his need for Gabriel’s touch. He’d felt safe with Gabriel’s arms around him, and already he was missing that feeling.

He followed Gabriel out, trying to ignore that stares of the other students and the teachers as they passed by. He didn’t even feel what he knew was a biting cold wind as they stepped outside and made the trek to Gabriel’s van. Numb. That’s what he was. Completely numb. He finally allowed himself to look over at Gabriel as he climbed into the passenger seat of the van and closed the door.

He looked sad, and Sam’s chest ached knowing that it was all his fault. He sniffled again and tugged on his seatbelt as Gabriel started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. This was all his fault, he thought. Dean, John, all of it. Gabriel had defended him, could have gotten hurt because of him, and Sam wasn’t sure how to process that thought. The idea of Gabriel taking a single blow from John Winchester left him feeling ill again, and the tears began to drip from his eyes again.

They were almost home by the time Gabriel noticed Sam’s tears. He almost slammed on the brakes right then and there, but he knew that Bobby would question any delay if he got home and they weren’t there.

“Hey Sammy,” he looked over at him. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, you’re safe now. Bobby’ll make sure of it,” he tried to reassure him, driving a little faster. The sooner they got home, the better. Gabriel’s heart felt like it had been smashed into a thousand pieces as he watched the tears drip down Sam’s cheeks. He would have done anything in that moment to make them stop, to fix everything. He wanted to pull Sam into his arms and hold him, protect him from all the nastiness that he had had to deal with.

He pulled into Bobby’s driveway quickly and threw the car in park. “C’mon let’s go inside okay?” he told him, with a smile. “I’ll make you some cocoa and we can throw a movie on. How does that sound?”

Sam gave him a thin, watery grin as he nodded and wiped at his face once more. He hadn’t even realized they were already home, didn’t remember the drive, but seeing the worn steps and the faded siding of the house made him want nothing more than to curl up in front of the fire and never leave. Here he was safe, here he was wanted, cared for, cared about. Here he was home, or at least as home as he could ever feel.

“Sound’s good.” He mumbled, not really trusting his voice. His throat was still too tight from the crying. He climbed out and made his way towards the door, letting the sound of Gabriel’s footsteps in the slushy snow behind him reassure him. Gabriel was here. As long as he had Gabriel, and this house, he was safe. Logically, he knew it was childish and silly, but he didn’t care. His therapist could deal with it later, he thought, only half in jest.

He opened the door, relishing the sudden warmth that flooded over him. “I’ll grab that movie. Any requests?” He shed his coat and hung it up, then dropped his bag at the base of the stairs as he headed up them, looking back at Gabriel.

Gabriel watched him walk in, treating the house like if he belonged there. Despite what he had just been through, it was comforting to Gabriel that Sam had found some place where he could be himself and be safe, could lay down roots.

“Whatever you want, kiddo,” he called back, taking off his coat and hanging it up.

Sam walked up the stairs and out of view, and Gabriel was left alone with his thoughts.

He knew that Bobby and him could never replace the family he’d lost, but he just hoped that it would be enough.


	9. Chapter 9

[ ](https://imgur.com/N45v9zo)

 

Christmas was one of Gabriel’s favorite times of year. There was something about the crisp cold, the mood of the season, and presents that made Gabriel feel happy. He loved every part of it, carolers, the bustle of shoppers, Christmas cookies and hot cocoa. He had a myriad of memories of cheerful Christmases full of food and presents and family. His parents weren’t rich by any means, but he and his brothers had never gone without. He’d known from conversations that the only happy Christmases Sam had were from before his mother died, and Gabriel couldn’t let that stand. After all Sam had been through in the last couple of months, he deserved a merry Christmas.

That was why when Bobby mentioned he being forced to going away for Christmas, and leaving Sam alone, Gabriel stepped in and volunteered to spend Christmas with him. No one should have to spend Christmas alone, he’d argued when Bobby told him he didn’t have to. Sam was almost eighteen, and he could spend a couple days by himself. Bobby said he had talked it through with Sam, and he was okay with it, but Gabriel didn’t believe it.

He knew that Sam would say anything to avoid being a problem, he knew that he didn’t want to disappoint Bobby, that he felt like he owed him for stepping up and taking him in. Sam would never admit that he didn’t like being left alone.

Sam seemed indifferent when Gabriel had suggested he spend Christmas with him. He had just shrugged, telling Gabriel that he didn’t have to spend Christmas with him, that he would be okay by himself. Gabriel had insisted, that his family was too far away and crazy to boot, that Sam would be doing him a favor. Sam hadn’t responded to that.

Gabriel had pulled out all the stops for Sam’s first real Novak Christmas, he bought a ham, potatoes, salad and all the ingredients for green bean casserole and an apple pie. He’d even gone to the dollar store and bought a small fake christmas tree with all the trimmings, not to mention a pile of presents.

Gabriel showed up at Bobby’s house around 11 am on Christmas Eve Day, and he knew Bobby had left the night before. He grabbed the bulging bags from the van, and knocked loudly on the door.

Sam opened the door with a smile, chuckling softly to see Gabriel overloaded with bags. He took half of them and ushered the smaller man into the house and out of the cold. He didn’t really get Christmas, and he would have been perfectly happy to spend the day watching tv on the couch while he drank cocoa and stuffed his face with cold pizza. Gabriel had insisted though, and Sam didn’t have it in him to tell the man ‘no.’ The big, golden puppy eyes he’d thrown at him hadn’t helped in turning him away, either.

“Does Bobby know you’re moving in?” Sam teased lightly as he closed the front door with one foot. Gabriel had brought enough with him to fill a room, and Sam would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious as to what it all was. He followed Gabriel into the kitchen, setting the bags down on the table.

“Hush,” Gabriel commanded lightly, setting down his fistful of bags down on the table. “This is Christmas dinner,” he explained. “Plus the very heart of Christmas; a tree and presents. Just let me put away the groceries and we can decorate the tree.”

Gabriel put the ham into Bobby’s mostly empty fridge along with the butter, salad and frozen pie crusts. He could start baking after they put the tree up. Everything else went onto the counter, grouped by which dish they were going into. Gabriel had bought more food than the two of them needed for one meal, but he thought they could eat the leftovers tomorrow. The potatoes went into the sink to soak, and finally, Gabriel picked up the rest of the baubles and headed into the living room.

“Okay Sammich,” Gabriel began, indicating the cardboard box the tree was in. “Let’s get this bad boy up!”

Sam shook his head, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t deny enjoying seeing Gabriel so enthusiastic and excited about something, and the man’s smile was infectious to say the least. Sam grabbed his cup of coffee and followed.

“I can’t remember the last time I put up a tree.” He commented, watching Gabriel pull theirs out. It was small, but more than enough. It was the thought that counted, after all. “Not sure I get the whole point of it, really.”

He picked up one of the ornaments, turning it over in his hand and watching the surface sparkle and glint in the light of the fire in the hearth. “Seems like a lot of work for one day.”

“I would have had a real one last week if Bobby had allowed it,” Gabriel told him, pulling a rope of shiny garland, lights and a small angel out of one of the bags. He wrapped the small tree in mini lights from head to two, spinning it to make sure he didn’t miss a spot. He took several small boxes of ornaments out of another bag and handed one of them to Sam. “He’s practically the Grinch!” he placed the remaining box and supplies down on the couch.

“Start decorating,” he teased, opening his box. He’d gotten an assortment of the most ridiculous ornaments he could find. The box he was holding was in the shape various fancy pastries and sweets and the box he had handed Sam was woodland creatures. Gabriel pulled an sparky striped lollipop out of the box and hung it on a branch.

“You’re not allowed to be Scrooge too, Bobby is more than enough for the both of you.” Gabriel said, hanging another ornament on the tree. Sam had followed suit, hanging a bauble shaped like a moose near his lollipop. “It’s all about the spirit. Decorating the tree always puts me in the mood. When I was a kid, we’d pick out a tree two days before Christmas and decorate on Christmas Eve before we started cooking. My mom would make gingerbread ornaments and strings of popcorn to hang on the tree.”

“Must have been nice,” Sam smiled down at him. He’d gained not only weight, but height as well since leaving John’s house. Bobby had made several comments about needing to raise the ceilings if Sam kept growing the way he was. The first time he’d said it, Sam had started to apologize, but Bobby had just laughed and clapped him on the shoulder with a smile on his face.

“I don’t really remember Christmas with my mom. It’s all kinda fuzzy, like a dream you have when you’re doped up on cold meds. I do remember she used to sing when she cooked, though. It was always Christmas carols, and I kinda remember watching her bake a cake one year and thinking my mother was the angel that belonged on the top of the tree.” His voice had taken on a dreamy tone as he thought back. If he tried hard enough, he could almost smell the warm vanilla and cinnamon that always seemed to cling to her.

He shook his head and focused on hanging a small racoon on one of the upper branches between an eclair and a tart.

“Sorry,” he cut his eyes, trying to gauge Gabriel’s reaction. The last thing he wanted was to make things depressing, but he didn’t really have much in the way of joyful and happy to draw on.

“It’s alright, kiddo,” Gabriel replied, laying a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. Ever since the incident with his father, Sam had been more amenable to touching. Gabriel tried not to over do it, he was a touchy person by nature, but he found that his touch seemed to calm Sam down, even if he didn’t want to think of the implications or reasoning of it. “We can make new Christmas memories.”

Gabriel finished hanging his box of ornaments, and wrapped the tree in the sparkly garland he had brought. Finally, he put the angel on top of it, standing back to admire their combined efforts. The tree looked more like the one from Charlie Brown, but with the ornaments, lights and garland, it was good enough for Gabriel. It made the whole house feel better.

He put the boxes away and turned to Sam. “Wanna help me make a pie?” he asked. “Christmas isn’t Christmas without a pie.”

Gabriel walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bag of apples from the counter, as well as two peelers from the drawer.

“That I can do,” Sam smiled brightly as he followed Gabriel. He’d have to remember to snag a few pictures of the tree later with his phone. If it was going to be the only good Christmas he got, Sam wanted to be sure he’d remember it. Sam shrugged off his flannel overshirt and tossed it over one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Bobby’s kitchen tended to heat up like a furnace when the oven was turned on, or the stove was used.

He grabbed an apple and started peeling, but he wasn’t really paying any attention to it. Cooking was one thing Sam was good at, and it was probably the only thing his mother had left him with, aside from her eyes. Instead, he focused on Gabriel, drawn in by the way his hands moved as he worked. It was an odd fetish to have, but Sam couldn’t deny he had a thing for hands, and there was something about Gabriel’s hands that he absolutely loved.

“So,” he shifted, his cheeks warming as he registered his own thoughts. He sat one peeled apple to the side and picked up another. “We put up the tree, we’re baking a pie. What do we do next?”

Gabriel finished peeling the apple he was holding, and dropped it into the bowl, only to pick up another and start peeling anew.

“Whatever you want to do,” Gabriel replied. “The ham should go in at around 3, but until then I brought some Christmas movies. We don't have to watch them, I just thought that if we’re doing the whole Christmas thing, might as well have the option.”

He dropped the second apple in the bowl, and then picked up another one. He'd brought enough to make one pie, after finding out it was Sam’s favorite. Everything was about Sam today. Gabriel had plenty of happy Christmas memories, and even though his family was disappointed that he wasn't coming home this year, they'd understood why after he explained it to them. He would never tell Sam that though.

“I guess I can live with Christmas movies for one day.” He gave an overly dramatic sigh as he rolled his eyes before a grin spread over his face. As long as it made Gabriel happy, Sam didn’t really care what they did. He’d be content to sit around and do nothing with a cup of something warm.

He picked up the last apple and began to peel it, the dropped it into the bowl with the others. He pulled open one of the many drawers and dug about until he pulled out an old, but clean apple corer he’d seen when he was cleaning some time ago. He made quick work of coring the apples and setting them aside for Gabriel to slice.

Once all of the apples were sliced and Gabriel had the pie pan out and the bottom crust in place, Sam began mixing together the sweet, buttery cinnamon mixture that would go in over them. He began to hum lowly, the familiar melody of ‘Hey Jude’ filling the comfortable silence of the kitchen.

Gabriel was more than content to lean back and watch Sam cook. It was mesmerizing, just the way he was in his own little world, but the best thing about it was that he looked happy. Gabriel didn't think he'd ever seen Sam look this happy, not at school, not at home, not anywhere. It was like a rainbow, only appearing in the sunshine after a storm.

On a whim, he snuck his phone out of his pocket and stole a picture of him, hoping Sam didn't notice him being a total creep. It wasn't even that he wanted the picture, but that he wanted to preserve the moment in the only way he could.

When Sam was done mixing, he dumped the apples into the bottom crust and Gabriel put the top crust over, crimping the edges with a fork the way his grandmother had taught him to in her kitchen when he was a child. He had very fond memories of baking with his grandmother around the holidays, but in the interest of keeping everything light, he decided not to mention it. Today was about making new memories, not reliving old ones.

He popped the pie in the oven. “Go pick out a movie,” he instructed, taking two cups from the cabinet. “I'll make us some cocoa.”

Sam dug through the bag Gabriel had brought with him, fishing out several classic Christmas movies. He couldn’t remember ever having actually watched any of them. After a moment of silent debate, he settled for Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer. He popped it into the DVD player and retreated to the couch as Gabriel joined him, taking one of the warm, steamy mugs of hot cocoa from him.

“Hope this is okay. I’ve never seen it.” He pressed the play button on the remote as they both got comfortable.

~~~~~~~~

Gabriel couldn’t move. He was so stuffed full of food, he felt as if he would burst any minute from the sheer mass of his gut. He would admit that maybe he had miscalculated the amount of food he’d brought for just the two of them, but it had been worth it. Between the two of them, they had cooked a spectacular dinner fit for a king, at least in his opinion. While he had baked the ham, Sam had taken initiative and prepared both the mashed potatoes and the salad. They had tag teamed the green bean casserole, which came out great considering that neither of them had made it before. The pie was the best part, and they’d each had two pieces before throwing in the towel.

Now it was time for presents, and relaxing. Gabriel herded Sam into the living room with promises of more hot cocoa, and he pulled one of the bags he’d brought from under the tree. Sam flopped down on the worn couch, his long legs hanging over.

Gabriel dug into his bag for the first of Sam’s presents and handed it to him.

“Merry Christmas, Sammy,” he grinned.

Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat. He wasn’t used to getting gifts, and knowing that Gabriel had spent money on him made his chest feel a bit too tight. He peeled the paper off slowly, revealing a grey tee. He pulled it from its wrapping and held it up, unable to stop the laughter that bubbled up inside him. The front of the shirt sported a large, hairy creature and beneath it the word Sasquatch was scrawled in black.

“Thank you.” He managed to choke out. As he calmed, he reached over and pulled a small parcel from beneath the tree to hand to Gabriel.

“It’s not much, and Bobby helped me pay for it, but I saw it and I thought you maybe would like it.” He rambled as he handed the package to Gabriel. He bit at his bottom lip nervously. “M-merry Christmas, Gabe.”

Gabriel unwrapped the present, carefully undoing the gaily colored Christmas paper. He hadn’t expected Sam to give him anything at all, it wasn’t like he had a job, and Gabriel couldn’t imagine he had much in savings, but for him to spend that money on Gabriel set the butterflies in his stomach fluttering again.

He pulled off the paper to reveal a slightly battered, beautiful hardcover copy of The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien. He had once let slip it was one of his favorite books, and clearly Sam had remembered that.

“Oh Sammy,” Gabriel said, opening the cover of the book. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get this for me. It’s perfect.”

He sat it on his lap as he pulled the second of his presents for Sam from his sack. The rest of the gifts he’d gotten were practical, but he knew that Sam would use them in the coming semester and in college. He just hoped that he liked them.

Sam did his best to ignore the blush that crept up his neck and over his cheeks at Gabriel's appreciation and acceptance of his gift. “I know I didn’t, but I saw it and I wanted to, so…”

He trailed off as he took the other gifts Gabriel offered him, and busied himself with opening them. It was mostly school supplies, notebooks, a few nice pens, and the like. Sam didn’t care. They were from Gabriel and that made them the most valuable things he owned. He sniffled softly and without warning, he stood and pulled Gabriel into a tight hug, burying his face in the shorter man’s golden brown curls to hide the fact that he was crying.

“Thank you.” He whispered it over and over, but still he didn’t think it was enough. He’d never be able to give back half as much as Gabriel had given him.

Gabriel hugged him back, not knowing what else to do. He didn’t think he’d ever been this close to Sam before, and the sensation of being completely enveloped by Sam’s body was new to him. He’d forgotten how much bigger Sam was than him, and how big he would likely be once he reached his full height and weight. There was every indication that he’d be bigger than both his father and Dean. Gabriel had stopped growing years ago, and he had come to terms with his stature, and the fact that no matter how hard he worked out he would always have a belly.

With Sam’s close proximity, Gabriel’s heart and stomach were doing flip-flops, and he didn’t want to let go, even though he knew he had to. Sam was just overcome, nothing more, and he scolded himself for even thinking that way. Sam was just grateful, that was all, and Gabriel was a stupid old fool for even entertaining the idea it meant otherwise.

“It’s okay, Sam,” he told him quietly. “You’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me. It’s Christmas, and you deserve it.”

Sam pulled back just enough to look down into the whiskey eyes he’d grown so fond of over the months, and shook his head. “I don’t just mean for this,” he held up one of the gifts Gabriel had given him. “I mean for everything.”

Sam didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know how to put everything he felt into words. Maybe there was another way he could let Gabriel know how he felt? He wracked his brain, trying to figure out a way to say everything he couldn’t, and took a deep breath to steady himself. The longer he stood there, his arms wrapped around Gabriel, the more aware he became of the situation. He could feel every inch of Gabriel’s body pressed up against his own, could smell the sweet scent of his shampoo, and a swarm of angry butterflies erupted inside his stomach.

Maybe...no, it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Gabriel didn’t care about him that way, he reasoned with himself as his eyes moved down to watch the other’s tongue dart out to moisten his lips.

Finally Gabriel broke the hug, stepping back and running his fingers awkwardly through his hair. He was more flustered than he cared to admit from just a simple hug, and he looked down to avoid Sam seeing the blush on his face.

“S-so what about another movie?” He asked, grabbing their empty cups from the coffee table.“We haven’t watched Santa Claus Is Coming To Town yet, and that’s one of my favorites. I’ll make more cocoa,”

He practically ran to the kitchen, just to give himself space to breathe before he did anything else stupid. He filled the cups with water and hot cocoa mix with splash of milk and popped them into the microwave. Gabriel gripped Bobby’s counter tightly, trying to get a hold of himself. He shouldn’t have let Sam hug him, he should have pulled away. None of it was Sam’s fault, the blame lay completely with Gabriel and his weakness. He didn’t think he could face Sam if he broke his trust again. Sam’s reaction when he’d stopped texting in class was indicator enough of that.

The microwave beeped at him, and Gabriel had to compose himself. He took a breath breath, grabbed the cups and headed back into the living room.

Sam was curled up on the couch in the same spot he’d been in before. His legs were tucked under him and he had a throw blanket drawn over his lap. He was hoping it might help to hide the growing problem he was dealing with. He’d already popped the movie in, the remote in his hand and ready to push ‘play.’

He looked everywhere but at Gabriel, embarrassed by his actions and the clearly awkward feeling it had left between them. What made it worse was the fact that now, all he could think about were Gabriel’s lips. What would they feel like? Were they soft? Chapped? Would he taste like cocoa, or like pie, or something else altogether?

They were halfway through the movie when Sam decided he had to know. Even if Gabriel rejected him, he had to know. But what if it ruined everything? What if he was right and Gabriel never spoke to him again? Could he live with that? Sam wasn’t nearly so certain about the answer as he was about wanting to kiss the man.

‘You’ll never know if you don’t go for it.’ he told himself, glancing over at Gabriel for what felt like the millionth time. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. They were close enough, all he would have to do was lean over.

“Hey, Gabe?” He started, waiting for the man to look over at him. “I-um...well...I....” After a minute of floundering, Sam let out a low growl of irritation at his own ineptitude, and leaned over, pressing his lips hesitantly to Gabriel’s.

It took Gabriel a moment to realize what was happening. One second, Sam was calling his name and the next, Sam’s lips were again his, and before he knew what he was doing, he was kissing him back. It was everything Gabriel would not admit that he had thought it would be, sweet and tender, but utterly and completely perfect. Gabriel felt like he had been electrocuted, like every cell in his body was suddenly awake and energized, and he was aware of every single one of them.

It took every ounce of strength in his body to pull away from him, to break the kiss and scoot out of reach. His heart didn’t want to, but his brain knew this was wrong, knew that he was taking advantage of Sam’s youth and trauma by allowing it to continue for as long as he had.

Gabriel hated himself, hated his weakness. Sam was depending on him to be there, to support him, not take advantage of him. As far as he was concerned, that would be almost as bad as what his father had done.

He looked over at Sam with questioning eyes. He knew that his reaction to what had just happened could make or break Sam, could cause him to retreat back into his shell and never trust anyone again. In that split second, he held Sam’s heart in his hands, and he was determined not to break it. He had to let Sam know that it would all be okay, and that what Sam was feeling for him was normal in the context. Gabriel had helped save him, and it was natural for Sam to feel like he owed him, even if he didn’t. Gabriel had only done what any decent person would do, and he didn’t require any sort of repayment, especially not like that.

“Sam,” he said. “You don’t have to… You don’t owe me…” he stammered, watching Sam’s face intently for any sign of hurt. “What you’re feeling right now is normal. I helped you, but you don’t owe me anything.”

“I-I wasn’t...I didn’t…” Sam stumbled over his words, his eyes wide with worry. He could still taste the sweetness of hot cocoa on Gabriel’s lips, and he subconsciously licked at his own to try and get more of it.

“That’s not…” He tried again, but he didn’t know how to organize his thoughts anymore. Gabriel has tasted like he’d thought he might, and his lips had been warm and soft, and for a moment, they had pressed against his in return. It had given him hope that maybe Gabriel felt something for him, too. “I can’t repay you for what you’ve done for me, but that’s not why I did it.”

His words were rushed, forced out of him by the idea that Gabriel was about to walk away from him. It wasn’t about that, it wasn’t. It never had been. How could he make Gabriel understand that he’d done it because he wanted to, because he’d been itching to do it for weeks, maybe even months? He felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes, hot and stinging, and he looked away to glare at the fireplace in frustration.

Gabriel hadn't thought it was possible to be more confused then he had been just a moment ago, yet here he was, studying Sam as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Sam had kissed him, and he had kissed him back. He'd crossed the line. He was the adult in this situation, the one who was supposed to be in control. Sam was still technically a child, someone who he trusted to protect him, and somewhere along the way, that trust had been damaged.

“It doesn't matter. This is my fault,” Gabriel said finally, not looking up. He couldn't face Sam’s eyes right now. “I'm sorry, Sammy. I fucked up, I should have asked for a transfer when I became aware of my feel- when I became aware of this. Instead I took advantage of you,” he added, trying to swallow his shame. “You’ve been through enough. I'm sorry.”

He knew he should go, but he didn’t get up. Sam was vulnerable right now, and Gabriel couldn’t just leave him alone. Despite the fact that he was probably the worst thing for Sam right now, there was no one else, and he promised Bobby he’d look after him.

“It’s not your fault,” Sam huffed, cutting his eyes to look at Gabriel. “I’m not confused, I’m not projecting or whatever the damn shrink called it.”

Why did everyone have to do this to him? Why did they all treat him like he was so fragile, like he didn’t know what was best for himself or that he wasn’t capable of making his own decisions? He’d tried to ignore it, because sure, sometimes he needed it. Sometimes he just couldn’t handle things, like John showing up at the school. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still able to decide what he wanted. He’d wanted to kiss Gabriel, and he had, and now Gabriel was blaming himself and it was pissing him off. He didn’t even know why it was pissing him off.

“Just forget it happened, alright?” He stood and switched out the movies before settling back down on the couch and wrapping himself in his blanket. “Won’t happen again.”

“I can’t forget it happened,” Gabriel replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. He didn’t know how he could, not in a million years. He knew he’d been playing down his attraction to Sam, but the kiss just made it clear that it was much more than just a innocent crush. He wanted to kiss Sam back, he wanted to kiss him again and again, consequences be damned. He wanted more than he could ever have, because Sam was his student, and legally a child. Even if Sam felt the same away about him, he clearly felt something, it was something that could never happen, and if they were going to get past this, it needed to be out in the open.

“Sammy, we need to talk about this,” he turned to him, catching Sam’s hazel eyes with his own. “If you aren’t confused or projecting, then what happened? If you don’t have to be treated like a child, then we need to talk like adults, about our feelings and what happened and why.”

“What’s there to talk about?” He muttered, his eyes focused on the TV, though he wasn’t actually seeing any of it. “I kissed you. Not because you took advantage of me, or because I felt like I owed you something, but because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to for a while, and I did. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I was foolish enough to think, just maybe, you might feel the same, but you clearly don’t. Can’t say I blame you.”

Sam wanted to be angry. Anger was familiar, it was comfortable. Anger was easy. Instead, by the time he finished talking, he just felt defeated. He’d been an idiot to think Gabriel would ever return the feelings he had, feelings he knew weren’t just the result of misplaced trust and hero-worship. “Like I said, just forget about it.”

“It’s not about my feelings Sam,” Gabriel said. He knew he had to tread carefully. “The feelings I have for you aren’t the issue here,” he admitted, taking a deep breath. “It’s that I can’t do anything about them. I’m your teacher, Sammy. You’re my student.”

He hated himself for admitting that there were even feelings there, but he didn’t think he could stand the thought of having broken Sam’s heart into pieces by denying it. He hated the way Sam talked about himself, like he was something grotesque that no one could ever love, when that was the farthest thing from the truth. Sam was wonderful in his eyes, he was smart, and funny and kind. He was the strongest, bravest person that Gabriel had ever known. In another world, Gabriel would have jumped at the chance to be with Sam, but it wasn’t another world.

“We can’t,” Gabriel said. “As much as we may want to, we can’t.”

“Then don’t be my teacher.” Sam hadn’t meant to snap, and the words came out harsher than he’d intended. He’d turned to look at Gabriel, meeting his gaze. Gabriel was telling him he felt the same, but then he was telling him it didn’t matter because he’d never be able to do anything about it. Sam couldn’t help but feel that he was just dangling the prospect in front of him like a treat for a dog.

“Don’t be my teacher, and I won’t be your student, and everyone else can just mind their own damn business and go to hell.”

Gabriel chuckled a little, despite the gravity of the situation. He wished it were that easy. “I think it’s too late for that, kiddo,” he replied .“I could get in a lot of trouble. You’re still underage. Not just getting kicked out of my program, or expelled from school, prison comes to mind. I don’t think I’d do well in prison.” he said.

“I didn’t tell you any of this to hurt you, Sammy,” Gabriel explained. “I did it to prove to you that you are worth loving. Despite what you think of yourself and what your asshole father says, you’re a good kid. You’re smart, and kind, strong, brave, talented. You’re going to be a great lawyer, and someday you’ll find someone to love. Someone who truly deserves it.”

Gabriel hoped that eventually there would be someone in Sam’s life who made him realize the things that Gabriel said were true. It just couldn’t be Gabriel, not right now. Sam needed someone who was his own age, not someone who he had trusted to take care of him. Gabriel had to make him see that, as much as it would hurt.

Sam gave a heavy, defeated sigh and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. What was he supposed to say? None of it would matter anyways, right? Nothing he could say would make the situation better, or make it go away. He’d ruined everything over a dumb kiss and now he had no clue what to do.

“Yeah. I guess.” Sam agreed, even as he told himself it wasn’t likely. Anyone that saw him, knew what he’d been through, how messed up he was, wouldn’t want to touch him with a ten foot pole. For all he knew, Gabriel was just saying that he felt the same to make Sam feel better.

“Sammy, look at me,” Gabriel said, reaching over to where Sam was to put a finger under his chin to make him look up. “It’s true. All of it. Anyone who can’t see how special you are is blind. Anyone would be very lucky to have you,” he assured Sam, smiling at him sincerely. He couldn’t show how much the idea stung, but he would do the right thing. So many people in Sam’s life had let him down. Gabriel would not be one of them. He doubted Sam would agree that this was for the best, or that he would like Gabriel making choices for him but someone had to be the responsible one, no matter how much it sucked.

Gabriel felt conflicted over the whole thing. On one hand, he wanted Sam, had feelings for him, and his heart was full by hearing Sam say he shared those feelings, but on the other was the fact that they couldn’t be together because of their situation. It seemed so unfair.

He felt raw inside, like someone had scraped out his insides with a spoon, like everything was flayed bare to the irritation of the rest of the world. It was heart-rending for him, to have to give Sam up when he’d come to care for him so deeply, but Sam deserved to be in a relationship with someone who was right for him, and right now, Gabriel was not that person. He shouldn’t have even been in the running, but for his own weakness.

The worst part was that Gabriel expected it to feel more...wrong, but even in the moment that Sam was kissing him, it hadn't. It had felt right, and that only convinced him even further that he was not someone Sam should care for. He was sick, perverted, not worthy of whatever feelings Sam had for him.

Gabriel didn’t know where they went from here. In any normal situation, he would have asked to change teachers, but he knew that Sam would see that as a rejection, and he didn’t want to hurt him anymore than what he’d been through. He couldn’t hurt him.

“What do you want to do now?”

What did he want to do? He gave Gabriel a withering look, what Dean had always called his bitchface. It should have been obvious what he wanted.

“Honestly? I wouldn’t mind packing up and just running away. That’s not gonna happen, though, so I guess we just go back to dancing around each other like this whole mess never happened.” He knew he sounded sour about it, probably because he was, but the ache in his chest combined with the sinking feeling he had in his stomach wouldn’t let him feel any other way.

Sam knew Gabriel was right, he knew they couldn’t do this, that it wasn’t appropriate or safe. He knew Gabriel could lose his job, and possibly face prison time. He knew it all, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted it. It didn’t make him stop feeling like he’d just been kicked in the gut, and it didn’t make him stop wanting to reach over and kiss Gabriel again. Knowing it was wrong didn’t stop it from feeling right.

Gabriel sighed. He was frustrated with the whole situation, that it was wrong, about his feelings, about Sam’s attitude. He knew Sam had every right to be annoyed, but Gabriel was feeling the same way. It was a shitty situation for both of them. Part of him wanted the throw caution to the wind, and kiss Sam senseless, to just say fuck it and do what felt good for once in his life.

The problem was he cared too much about Sam for that. He wouldn't open him to that kind of scrutiny after what he'd been through.

He leaned across the couch, and took the remote from his hand, turning the movie back on, just to give him something else to concentrate on. It was clear to him that Sam didn’t want to talk and he couldn’t make him. He settled back onto the couch, as far away as he could manage, and focused on the TV.

What else could he do?


	10. Chapter 10

[](https://imgur.com/I0YojFe)

After Christmas, things turned to chaos. Not only was Gabriel keeping a distance, which left Sam with a gaping hole in his chest that ached every time he saw him, but school had become hectic as everyone began stressing over college applications, scholarships, exams, and graduation. Teachers were giving out more homework than before, and counselors were constantly badgering them all about getting applications in. There was so much to do and not nearly as much time as anyone wanted in order to do it. 

On top of it all, Sam had begun to revert back to the shy, introverted bookworm he’d been back in August. He knew Bobby was frustrated with him, and he also knew Bobby had noticed the sudden distance between him and Gabriel, but the man said nothing of it. At least not to Sam.

Midway through February, Bobby had had enough of the both of them. No one else saw it, but then again, no one else knew what to look for. Their tutoring sessions were tense, with a full table between them, and they didn’t banter the way they had before the holidays. Something had happened, and he knew Sam wasn’t going to tell him what. His only option was to confront Gabriel and hope that the younger man would be honest with him. 

“Mr. Novak,” Bobby spoke as the students filed out of the classroom. It was the last class of the week, and everyone was eager to get home. “Can you hang back? We need to discuss a few things.”

Gabriel froze for a second. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong lately, he'd done everything that Bobby had assigned to him, graded all the extra credit assignments that had been turned in and cleaned up after Ed Zeddmore had set fire to his lab table. That could only leave one thing. 

It had been a long couple of months for Gabriel. After the incident at Christmas, Gabriel had kept his distance from Sam, trying as hard as he could to re-draw the boundaries between them, even though it killed him. Sam had retreated into himself again, and Gabriel knew it was all his fault. 

But he wouldn't apologize from trying to keep Sam safe, even if it was from himself. 

He had known it was just a matter of time before Bobby figured out that something was wrong between them. He'd caught Bobby looking at the new space between them as they studied in his living room, had noted his glances when they coldly interacted in the classroom. Bobby wasn’t stupid by any stretch of the imagination and the way their relationship had taken a nose dive wasn't exactly subtle. 

Gabriel waited until all the students were gone before he approached Bobby, sitting on one of the lab tables carefully as he tried not to look nervous. 

“Mr. Singer?” 

Bobby waited until he’d finished wiping off the board and shoving what papers he needed to take home into his briefcase. In truth, he was having trouble finding the words he needed to address the situation, and he was stalling for an extra few moments to try and gather them. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he rounded the desk, leaning back to sit against the edge of it with his legs out in front of him.

“Just what in the hell happened while I was gone over Christmas? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ cause both of you boys have been acting weird and it’s gettin’ on my last nerve.” He bit out as he crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice and he didn’t bother to try. Sam was withdrawing, getting moody and standoffish, and Bobby was about to the point of telling the boy off, regardless of his past. 

He fixed Gabriel with a no-nonsense stare as the younger man shifted in his seat, and waited for an answer.

Gabriel opened his mouth and then closed it again. Nothing had been his first prefabricated response, but it would appear Bobby was one step ahead of him, which wasn’t all that surprising. Bobby had been a teacher for a very long time, and he knew the response a person who had been confronted would most likely go to. He’d thought up so many other responses, but in that moment, none of them seemed to fit. 

As he figured it, he had two choices. He could either lie, or he could tell the truth. Lying to Bobby would not be pretty, maybe he could get away with it for a little while, but eventually, Bobby would sniff the truth out, and Gabriel was done for when that happened. Telling the truth was an equally daunting prospect. Sam was underage, Gabriel was his tutor, and teacher. Even if Sam had been the one who initiated it, Gabriel would still suffer. Bobby would let him go, would tell his program, and a lifetime of work would be gone down the drain. He knew the consequences could go further than that, that prison or criminal charges were also a possibility. 

The truth was, he didn’t really care about either option. Sam was hurting, and Bobby couldn’t help him if he didn’t know what was wrong. Sam was more important than his job or school. He could go back to school, or get another job, he could even live with a criminal record, but Sam couldn’t keep this up much longer, and Gabriel kept hearing the conversation they’d had after his father had beaten him, about how no one would miss him. 

In his heart he knew he had no choice but to come clean. 

“He uhhh,” Gabriel began, running his hand through his hair nervously. “He kissed me, sir.” 

Bobby waited patiently, and if he was honest, the answer Gabriel gave him wasn’t all that surprising. Bobby had seen a lot of things in his time, and he’d learned very early in life that when his gut was telling him something, he needed to listen. He should have done something months ago, really, when he’d noticed how close the two were getting, but Sam needed someone and he was loathed to rip away the one person the boy actually trusted. 

“That it?” He turned his eyes down, inspecting his shoelaces as his brain began to go over all the possible ways this could pan out. He had choices to make, and no matter what decision he ultimately came to, things were going to change. He had to do what was best for Sam, but he’d grown to like the man standing before him, and he knew he’d have to do what was best for Gabriel, too.

He didn’t relish the idea of terminating Gabriel’s internship, as it were. The boy was smart, and dedicated. He was always there, happy to help, rarely complaining. He cared about the kids, and the subject matter, and Bobby could tell that he genuinely wanted to teach. People like him were rare. Teaching was something Bobby firmly believed that a person had to be called upon to do, and if Gabriel felt that calling, Bobby didn’t really want to be the one to snatch it away from him. God knew the world needed more dedicated teachers who actually gave a damn, which is what he was certain Gabriel would become once he finished his own education. 

Gabriel didn’t want to look up. He could practically feel Bobby’s eyes boring into his skull and he didn’t want to face him. He knew Bobby was disappointed in him, and he was more than a little disappointed in himself. This had been his fault from the beginning, he should have done more to prevent it, should have pulled back once he sensed it happening. 

“Yes, that’s it,” he replied, still looking down. “I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have allowed any of it to happen. He nee-... I felt like he needed me. I see now that I should have come to you before any of this happened.” 

He tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever came next, and hope for the best. The best case scenario here was that Bobby dismissed him, and he could go back to school and try and salvage his degree. He couldn’t even begin to think of his life without teaching, he’d wanted to teach children since he was a child himself and planned his entire life around it. He’d lose a year, maybe two, depending on what his next major would be. It would be worse if the school expelled him. He’d have to start from scratch. But he would take the consequences. 

“I’ll get my things.” 

“You ain’t plannin’ on comin’ to work Monday or somethin’?” Bobby couldn’t help but tease him a bit. He actually hoped it might lighten the mood. “I ain’t gonna fire you, son, though I’m pretty sure I ought to.”

Bobby wondered as he spoke if he was making the right decision. He had every right to send Gabriel packing, but he just couldn’t do it. He had to come up with another solution.

“The way I see it, this was bound to happen, and it ain’t your fault it did, so don’t go blaming yourself. I should have stepped in months ago, when I saw where things were heading, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have left you two alone over Christmas. Nah, this is on me, son, and I’ll take the heat for it if any should come down.” Bobby leveled him with another serious stare, raising one finger towards him as a warning.

“But it ain’t gonna happen again. It can’t, no matter what you two want. Not right now. Still, the boy needs you. I’m a sorry replacement, and to be honest, I ain’t got the patience for it like you do. I care about Sam, but I can’t give him what he needs. Can’t give what ya never got, ya know?” He huffed out a breath. He didn’t like talking about himself anymore than anyone else liked hearing about it. 

Finally Gabriel looked up. Bobby couldn’t be serious right now. He had to be joking, this was all some sort of sick prank before he fired him. It just had to be. Gabriel searched Bobby’s face, looking for any traces of his treachery, but there was none there. Bobby was completely and utterly serious. 

“But… you…he… What?” he babbled, as he tried to comprehend what had just occurred. What did he mean by right now? He must have mistaken Bobby’s words, he must not be understanding correctly. There was no way Bobby would… give him permission, would he? He couldn’t wrap his head around it in that moment, not right now. But he was still standing, he was alive, and Bobby hadn’t fired him outright. Gabriel counted all of those things as a win.

“I won’t let you down, sir,” Gabriel cheered up, the tight grip on his heart unclenching as it became clear he wasn’t losing everything he had or being hauled off to prison. “Thank you for giving me this chance.” 

He stopped short of hugging Bobby, because he knew even in his delirious happiness, Bobby wouldn’t hesitate to knock him out for that kind of slight. He’d been given a second chance, he wasn’t about to press his luck. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby waved off his gratitude with a grumble and a wave of his hand. “I ain’t done yet.”

He pushed away from the desk, standing and looking the younger man square in the eye. He wanted to be damn sure Gabriel understood every word he was about to say. 

“You two can’t be gettin’ involved. Not while he’s still a student and sure as hell not while he’s still a minor. You know that as well as I do. March is just around the corner, and May isn’t too far behind it. Keep it quiet, keep it appropriate. No more meetings before class, no more weekend movie nights, no more chances for things to get outta hand.” Bobby raised one eyebrow, his finger waving in warning once again. “You keep tutoring him, cause we both know he ain’t gonna get through the next three and a half months with a passing grade if you don’t, and you get back to givin’ him someone to lean on. Boy won’t talk to me, and he ain’t talkin’ to the shrink either. He’s moody and mopey and I can’t take it anymore, ya understand?”

He let out a noise between a growl and a grunt as he grabbed his briefcase off of his desk. He headed towards the door, digging his keys out of his pocket as he went. Bobby pauses at the door, one hand on the knob, and looked back over his shoulder at Gabriel. Poor boy looked shell-shocked, and part of him feared he might pass out. 

“What you boys do when all this is said and done, well, that’s on you, but if you hurt him, you ain’t gonna have to worry about finishing college and finding a job. There won’t be enough left of ya to even bother.” He left the room, doing his best to hide the grin on his face. He wanted both of them happy, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun along the way, and the look on Gabriel’s face as he issues his threatening promise was well worth it. 

Gabriel’s knees lasted long enough for Bobby to get out of the room before the gravity of what just happened hit him and they gave out from under him. He caught himself on a desk before he hit the floor, and plopped down hard into the chair. He couldn’t believe he was still alive after that. He’d managed to avoid the wrath of Bobby Singer, and not lose his life, his internship or his dignity in the process. What was better than all of that though was the fact Bobby hadn’t ordered him away from Sam, not entirely anyway. 

He was still reeling from Bobby’s words, couldn’t believe that the man hadn’t ripped him a new one, but instead gave him a sort of permission to keep seeing Sam, even if it had some caveats and restrictions for now. 

Now all he had to do was convince Sam to want to talk to him again. 

~~~~~

[](https://imgur.com/GyELZWU)

Gabriel was not expecting to find Sam waiting for him at his car. After his chat with Bobby, Gabriel had stayed to finish cleaning the classroom, and to set up tomorrow’s lesson. It had taken him another hour, and he was anxious to get home, but he knew it would be worth the peace of mind come the morning. He’d gathered his things and walked through the school, saying his goodnights as he passed the other teachers in the hallway. The teacher’s lot was mostly full, and he had parked in the back. 

He didn’t see Sam until it was too late to turn back. Sam had already seen him, and there was nothing he could do but keep doing. 

“Hey Sammy,” he said nonchalantly. “I thought you’d gone home already?’

Sam cleared his throat as he straightened up. He’d been leaning against the back bumper of Gabriel’s van for what felt like hours. He was beginning to get cold, but he didn’t want to leave without talking to Gabriel first. Bobby had cornered him as they were walking to his car, informing him of his chat with Gabriel, and when Sam had regained his senses, he’d been so anxious that Bobby had all but told him to wait for the man.

“H-hey.”He gave a slight wave before shoving his hand back into the relative warmth of his coat pocket. “I...um...Bobby said…”

He should have been used to fumbling over his words by now. He huffed and looked down, scuffing the toe of one boot against the blacktop. He took a deep breath before trying again, but it all came out in a rush.

“BobbysaidhespoketoyouandhesaidhesnotmadatmeandthatIcantalktoyouagainandI’vemissedyouandIwon’tscrewupagain,Ipromise.”

Gabriel couldn’t help the chuckled that slipped through his lips. “Breathe, kiddo,” he told him. “You’re going to pass out if you keep talking like that.” 

It was a relief that Sam had come back so readily, that he didn’t seem to harbor any grudge for Gabriel keeping him away, or how he had treated him on Christmas. It would have been his right to be mad after the way Gabriel had handled the situation. He knew he should have told Bobby right away, and that all of this could have been avoided if he’d acted like an adult. Despite the fact that he was old enough to both vote and drink, Gabriel had reacted like he was a child, and he couldn’t afford to forget himself again. 

“Did he tell you the rest?” Gabriel asked carefully. Sam was so happy and he didn’t want to put a damper on it, but he needed to be aware that whatever was between them had limitations. “No more movie nights, or hanging out before class. Studying only,” he said. “But I missed you too, Sammy.”

Sam nodded reluctantly and gave a slight shrug. Bobby had mentioned that, but Sam had been too excited to pay it much attention. “Yeah, but it’s better than nothing.”

Sam knew he needed to be honest with Gabriel. Keeping things inside was what had led to this situation in the first place. That didn’t make it any easier, though. He was still scared that, once he laid it all out, Gabriel would laugh at him, call him an idiot, a dumb kid, and just walk away. 

“I can’t...I can’t do this on my own.” He looked anywhere but at Gabriel as he bit at his bottom lip. “I don’t know what’s Bobby told you, but I haven’t been doing so great on my own, and Bobby tries but-”

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, threatening to break loose as his stomach churned with nerves.

“But, he’s not you. I don’t know why, but you make it better, you make it easier...bearable. You make me feel like I matter. Like I’m not a waste of space and oxygen. I’d rather have a few hours a week studying with you than be locked up in my room while my own brain fucks with me.”

“You do matter,” Gabriel responded quietly. “With or without me, you’ve always mattered.” 

He didn’t know how to proceed from here. Normally he would have given Sam a pat on the shoulder, a small hug, but there was a line drawn in the sand between them and he didn’t dare cross it. He couldn’t afford to even get close to it anymore, and that hurt even though he knew it was the best for both of them. 

He bounced from one foot to the other, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “So um… how did you do on the last test?” he said, switching the subject. “Do you want to go over it? We can go to Bobby’s later this week, or now if you want. I’m free whenever.” 

“Now,” Sam blurted even as his cheeks grew warm at Gabriel's assurance. He flushed deeper, the tips of his ears going red as well, and looked down. “I mean, now would be fine. I kinda need a ride home anyways. Bobby left me.”

He wasn’t really upset about it, but he was a little miffed at being left in the cold. It might have been getting close to spring, but it wasn't there just yet and the biting wind was bitter. He shrugged and gave a half grin.

He wouldn't complain about what little time he was being given with Gabriel. Bobby was right, it would be time to graduate soon, and after that, it didn't really matter if something happened between them. Sam could be patient. He had to be. Gabriel was the only person in his life that he couldn't lose, if the bags under his eyes and the ache in his chest were anything to go by. 

Gabriel unlocked the car. “I’m sure I can spare a ride since we seem to be going to the same place,” he smiled, feeling lighter than he had in months. 

He got into the car and started the engine, blasting the heat as Sam got into the passenger seat. Slowly, he pulled out of the spot, and drove out of the parking lot. 

Gabriel stole a glance at Sam as he drove, noting the way he perked up even at this small gesture. He didn’t looked like a hanged dog, even though it was clear to Gabriel he hadn’t been sleeping well, and he’d lost some weight. He’d grown taller since he began living with Bobby and Gabriel would be surprised if he didn’t hit over 6’3” by the time he stopped growing. Gabriel liked the way he looked in his car, but he shoved the thought away. Nothing going on here, just a student teacher giving a student a ride home so he could tutor him. 

That was the way it was going to stay. 

It had to.


	11. Chapter 11

[ ](https://imgur.com/G46esXi)

March turned into April, and April turned into May, and before Gabriel knew it, it was Sam’s birthday. It had been a long couple of months, with the two of them dancing around each other under Bobby’s watchful eye, carefully and dutifully toeing the lines that had been drawn between them. 

 

Gabriel had asked special permission for tonight, to take Sam out for dinner, and then to the local arcade. He’d invited Bobby to come along, but he had declined. In lieu of his supervision, Gabriel promised to be back early, and to keep his phone on in case Bobby should happen to call. It was his 18th birthday, and Sam deserved to have a little fun with how hard he’d been working. 

 

Gabriel was impressed by the amount of work he was putting in, and not just chemistry, but the rest of his classes as well. It seemed like Sam always had his nose in one textbook or another, making study guides, and re-writing notes, and on top of that, Gabriel had spied the last of his college acceptance letters coming in. He didn’t pry on that front; where he went to college was Sam’s business. Gabriel had known from the start of this that Sam wanted to be a lawyer, so he assumed that Sam would be majoring in pre-law or something of that ilk. He told himself he would take Sam college shopping once the school year was over. 

 

He arrived at Bobby’s house promptly at seven, showered and dressed in clean clothing. The restaurant he was taking Sam was nothing fancy, but they had the most out of this world chocolate lava cake, and they got rave reviews on their chopped salads, which he knew Sam would enjoy. He had the present he’d gotten for him wrapped in shiny paper in the back seat. Again, it was nothing extravagant, just a bucket of things Gabriel thought would be useful for his first year of college; shower shoes, new pens, some DVDs of things Gabriel thought Sam might like, and a copy of the Hobbit for him to read. Nothing in there could be misconstrued as anything else than what it was. 

 

Gabriel would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to tonight. Even though his classes had ended, because of his student teacher placement, he still had work to do. He still had to finish the year out before he got the credit. He still had one more year left of school, with another semester of teaching placement to do, but he’d worry about that when he got to it. He’d be 22 when he graduated, an unfortunate side-effect of being held back in kindergarten. 

 

He walked up to the door and knocked. 

 

Bobby beat Sam to the door, and Sam had to look away from the hawkish gaze of the older chemistry teacher to avoid letting him see just how excited he was. He’d been waiting for this night, his 18th birthday, for years. At first, it had been a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Now, it was so much more. It wasn’t tarnished with the thought of having to run from his father. It was the start of a new chapter of his life, his first foray into adulthood (though he’d been well beyond such things a long time ago, if he was honest with himself). 

 

When Gabriel had offered, he’d been certain Bobby would say no. They’d been dancing around one another since February, always hyperaware of where they were and who was watching, each word or phrase or action planned out so as to avoid any possibility of being seen as out of line, and it was slowly killing him inside. He was close, though. He just had to make it to graduation, and then he would really be free. Unbeknownst to Gabriel, Sam had been making plans for several weeks already, and he hoped he had everything ready by the time he had his diploma in hand.

 

He shuffled his feet as Bobby opened the door, his eyes cemented on his shoes as the scuffed the worn wood of the bottom step where he’d stopped. He couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread over his face as Bobby stepped back, though, and he didn’t give the man time to grumble out a warning of curfews and propriety before he was pushing past him and out onto the porch.

 

“Come on,” he took Gabriel’s hand, waving to Bobby over his shoulder as he all but dragged the man back down the steps and towards his van. “Be back by ten!”

 

Gabriel laughed as Sam yanked him towards the van. “Slow down Sammy!” he grinned, swinging into the driver’s seat and revving the engine. He waved at Bobby, who was still standing on the porch shaking his head. Gabriel threw the car in reverse, backing out of the driveway and turning left. 

 

He couldn’t help but smile when he saw how excited Sam was. He had every right to be, he was eighteen today, free of his father and with only good things ahead of him. For  most of his life, he wouldn’t have had this, but now he could. 

 

“So I thought we’d go to dinner first,” Gabriel told him, his hands on the steering wheel. “I found a great place that has amazing salad and cake, we could go to the arcade, and presents back at Bobby’s. What do you think about that?” he asked. 

 

Sam ran a hand through his hair hair, looking over at Gabriel from the passenger's seat. “That’s fine. It’s perfect, actually. I’m starving.”

 

He was more excited than he’d been in a long time, but not just about the fact that it was his 18th birthday. He was finally getting to spend some time with Gabriel, outside of studying and school, and it left him with a warm giddy feeling in his stomach. He was likely reading more into it that he should, but Gabriel looked to be rather excited too, and that just made his stomach flipflop as they drove. 

 

Sure, Gabriel had said he felt the same as Sam back at Christmas, but part of him still felt that it had just been Gabriel trying to placate him, to let him down easy and blame the situation rather than admit he didn’t return the feelings. He wanted to say so much, but at the same time, he didn’t want to risk ruining their night before it had even begun.

 

“You’re always starving,” Gabriel teased, shooting another grin Sam’s way. “Must be all that growing you’ve been doing.” Sam had shot up another inch at least in the past two months, and showed no signs of stopping. Bobby was constantly joking he was going to have to raise the ceilings in his house. “Let’s get you fed.” 

 

He pulled up to the diner and parked in the lot. Gabriel flung the door open and bounced out of the van, unable to contain his excitement. He held the door of the diner open for Sam, and then followed him inside. The diner was busy, but not overcrowded and the hostess seated them in a secluded corner booth. She handed them the menus and retreated. 

 

Gabriel already knew what he was going to order, but he pretended to look at the menu anyway, stealing glances over the top of it. Sam looked happier than he had ever seen him, happier than Christmas, happier than the day Bobby told them they could talk again. He was practically vibrating with it, and it was contagious. 

 

“So see anything you like, Sammy?” he asked. 

 

Sam forced himself to take a deep breath as he slid into the booth. He’d caught a whiff of something sweet off of Gabriel as he’d walked by him into the diner, the rush of air that came with opening the door practically forcing the scent into his nostrils. He vaguely remembered the cotton candy scented body wash he’d seen in Gabriel’s shower all those months ago, and he had to force his mind to stay clear of the gutter it was trying so hard to swan dive into. 

 

“Hmmmm…” he glanced over the menu, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched. He knew it was Gabriel, but he also knew that if he looked up and got caught up in the stare, he’d never be able to look away. He’d spent a lot of nights thinking about those eyes. They were so close though, just a few more weeks, and he couldn’t risk fucking it all up again.

 

“The salad looks good,” he bit at his lip as he read over the description. “I think I’ll go with that.”

 

“I’ve heard it’s good here,” Gabriel nodded, putting his menu down. “I think I’m going to have a burger myself with mushrooms and swiss and french fries. No bunny food for me,” he replied, smiling widely at the waitress when she came to take their orders. Gabriel ordered his burger, with a beer, and waited as Sam ordered his food before speaking again. 

 

“So how’s the college thing going?” Gabriel asked. He had tried to steer clear of it before, it wasn’t wany of his business where Sam was going to school, he had no claim on him, but he was a little curious. “All ready to go away?” 

 

Gabriel had been so excited when he’d gone away to college, ready to get away from his family and make the most of it. He’d been homesick within the first semester, but he’d made friends and it had worked out in the end. Aside from a few minor snafus, he’d gotten through almost all three years relatively unscathed and he was hoping that it would go the same for Sam. After what he had been through, he deserved that bit of luck.

 

He couldn’t help but be a little sad thinking of it. He knew Sam had feelings for him, and just because they’d been forced apart didn’t mean his feelings for Sam had changed. But he knew that once Sam got to college, and started meeting people, he’d forget about Gabriel in a heartbeat. There would be so many people more deserving of his affections. Gabriel knew it was for the best, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting just a little. 

 

It would pass.

 

Sam gave a halfhearted shrug as he handed the waitress his menu. He had a good idea of where he wanted to go, and he’d already gotten the acceptance letter to go along with it, but he wasn’t going to say a word about that to Gabriel. Not yet, anyways. It was all part of his post-graduation plan. 

 

“I’ve gotten a few acceptances. Stanford, Minnesota, Penn State…” he rattled off a few of the schools that had granted him acceptance. “Not sure which one I’m gonna pick, to be honest. There’s a lot of factor in and I don’t want to rush it, you know?”

 

He gave the waitress a small smile as she brought their drinks and took a long pull from his glass of iced water. 

 

The waitress put down Gabriel’s beer in front of him with a flirty grin, and Gabriel gave her a tight smile, trying not to cringe as he saw her number on the coaster under his beer. He ignored it, instead focusing on Sam. 

 

“Where you spend the next four years of your life is an important choice,” Gabriel agreed, taking a sip from his beer. It was fruity and light, the perfect counterpoint for what was sure to be a heavy meal. “Wherever you are, they’ll be lucky to have you. Still want to go for law?” 

 

Gabriel remembered being where Sam was, making the choice that would affect not just the next four years, but the rest of his life. He wasn’t as smart as Sam though, and he’d had less pressure. He could only imagine what Sam was feeling now, but he didn’t know how to offer his support without crossing the line between them. 

 

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, trying to ignore the heat of jealousy that bloomed in his chest at the waitresses attention to Gabriel. “I want to help people. People like me, kids stuck in bad places. I thought about social work, but law just makes more sense. I can do more there.”

 

He never wanted to see anyone in the situation he’d been in. He wanted to do everything he could to help those that were, even if it meant sticking to family court and working pro bono. He wasn’t after money, or popularity. He just wanted to do some good to try and balance out all of the bad. 

 

He leaned back as the waitress brought out their food, actually having to bite back a growl as the woman winked at Gabriel with another flirty smile. He stabbed a bit of lettuce with his fork and shoved it into his mouth to keep from saying anything. 

 

The rest of dinner passed pleasantly and quickly, despite Sam glaring at the waitress every time she came close to them. Gabriel couldn't help feeling a little smug about it. He was polite but curt, but the woman didn't seem to be getting the hint. She kept coming back to ask if they needed a refill or dessert, or more napkins. Finally Gabriel cut her off and asked her for the bill after she'd come over to fill Sam’s glass for the third time even though he hadn't drank any. 

 

Sam seemed to be in a bad mood when they left, so Gabriel made a beeline for the car, cracking jokes as they went to try and lighten the mood. 

 

“Next to the arcade!” He said, getting into the van and turning it on. “What's your favorite arcade game? I'm partial to Pacman myself!” 

 

He pulled out of the parking lot and started driving towards the local arcade, one of his favorites since he moved to the area. He’d spent a lot of time at the one in his hometown as a kid, tagging along with older brothers, appeased with quarters and ice cream while Lucifer tried to flirt with the girl behind the counter. They were good memories. 

 

Sam couldn’t help but let some of the irritation at the waitress get to him, and he knew it was silly. Gabriel wasn’t his. He didn’t have Sam Winchester stamped across his forehead. He was free to flirt with anyone he wanted, and Sam should have been happy for him if it made Gabriel happy to do so. He wasn’t though. The very idea of Gabriel with anyone made his chest ache and burn with jealousy, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

 

He pulled in a deep breath of fresh air as they climbed into the van, and forced himself to calm down. The waitress was gone, and they were alone again. He gave Gabriel a smile, unable to stop after a particularly lame joke, and fastened his seat belt.

 

“Street Fighter. The original.” Sam deadpanned. “Also, Galaga. Old school, I know, but I love it anyways.”

 

He wanted to make a half-hearted joke about liking older things, but he wasn’t sure if Gabriel would appreciate it, so he kept his thoughts to himself. He was content to watch the man drive, happy to see that gleam in his eye that wasn’t there when they were being cautious and supervised. 

 

“Hey,” Sam paused, trying to find the words he wanted. “Thank you...for everything. For tonight, and the tutoring, and...everything.”

 

“You don’t need to thank me, Sam,” Gabriel told him, keeping his eyes on the road. He wanted to look at him, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his face from giving away his feelings with what he was about to say. “It’s been my pleasure, all of it. I should have stepped in sooner, maybe if I’d been less... scared you would have been out of there sooner.” 

 

It was something that Gabriel had felt badly about from the start of this. He’d had a hunch something was wrong and he’d been afraid to take it any farther after he’d told Bobby. If he’d just trusted his instinct in the first place, Sam wouldn’t have had to show up beat half to hell on his doorstep in order to get the help he needed. It was unacceptable in Gabriel’s eyes, and he didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself for it. 

 

Gabriel gripped the steering wheel tightly, making a left turn towards the arcade. He parked towards the back, and stopped the car. 

 

“You don’t need to thank me,” he repeated. “I wish the whole thing hadn’t been so hard on you.” 

 

Sam shrugged. “No one can change what’s happened. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have let you help me anyways. I had to do it for myself. I’m just glad you were there for me when I finally realized I needed you...it...help…”

 

He stammered and stumbled over his words, trying to cover his own slip of the tongue. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he quickly slid out of the car. 

 

“So, let’s go have some fun, yeah?” He tried his best to change directions to something less likely to lead him down a road to trouble. “I hope you brought a lot of quarters, cause I’m gonna kick your ass at every single one of these games.”

 

“You’re on, Winchester!” Gabriel taunted back, sliding out and following him across the parking lot. As he neared Sam, he broke into a sprint, passing him quickly. “Last one in's a rotten egg!” 

 

Gabriel didn’t turn back, but he could hear Sam’s footfalls against the asphalt and knew he was running after him. He was lucky he had gotten a head start because there was no way he would ever beat Sam in a fair race, not with legs that length. He was out of breath by the time Sam passed him, and the boy smirked over his shoulder as he easily reached the door, and held it open for Gabriel. 

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes as he stepped past Sam and into the cool air of the arcade. 

 

It wasn’t that packed, nor had Gabriel expected it to be. It was too late for most younger children to be out, and most kids Sam’s age were busy trying to pack in as many parties and social interactions as possible before they went away to school. Sam didn’t have many friends, and none of them would be here. 

 

He made a beeline for the quarter exchanger and put a fifty in, smiling at Sam as he handed him handfuls of coins as they poured from the machine. 

 

“What do you want to do first?” 

 

Sam shoved fistfuls of the silver coins into the pockets of his jeans as Gabriel handed them to him. They’d be playing for hours with so many quarters, but he was alright with that. He’d take as much time with the golden eyed man as he could get.

 

“Pac-man?” He offered, jerking his head towards the empty machine. Most of the patrons there were busy with newer games, leaving the older classics to gather dust. “Winner picks the next one?”

 

When the quarters finally stopped falling, he led the way towards the machine with a grin, trying not to laugh as they both jingled and jangled with every step. “Gonna be honest with you, I haven’t played this in ages. You’re probably gonna beat me.”

 

“Oh I’m definitely gunna beat you,” Gabriel countered, sliding quarter after quarter into the machine. “Get ready to die, Sammy!” Gabriel took the player one position, moving over so that Sam could squeeze in beside him. The machine was small and there was barely any room between them when Sam stepped in to take the second controller. He tried not to think about the warmth or the feel of Sam’s body next to him. He tore his gaze away and tried to concentrate on the game. 

 

It was a losing battle. He lost. 

 

“I’m rusty! That didn’t count, warm up round,” He protested, hoping the darkness covered his blush well enough. “C’mon I’ll bet you now!” He boasted. 

 

He lost again, worse than he had before. 

 

“Best three out of five,” Gabriel asked, his pride pushing him to keep going until he could claim at least one victory.

 

He knew why he kept losing. He couldn’t help but steal looks at Sam while he played. He was beautiful when his mind was engaged with trivial things. His whole face relaxed, attention turned towards the game, and he looked every inch the man he was quickly becoming. 

 

Sam couldn’t help but laugh. He hadn’t been joking when he said Gabriel would probably beat him. He was awful with games like this, and it had been years since he’d touched one,  but for some reason, he was actually winning. 

 

“I thought you said you were good at this?” Sam teased, bumping Gabriel with his shoulder as he won yet another round. He could feel Gabriel’s eyes on him, watching him as he watched the screen and it was both unnerving and comforting. “Either you lied, or you’re letting me win.”

 

Sam was doing everything he could to ignore the warmth that radiated from the man next to him. He could practically feel the heat of him through his clothes and it was slowly driving the teen mad. He knew he should move away, put a bit more space between them, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

 

“Win this round, or you’ll be playing Frogger for the next hour.” Sam dared to poke his tongue out slightly at Gabriel, hoping the jest would urge the other to stop letting him win and actually play the game. 

 

Gabriel couldn’t help but take up the challenge. “One more game,” he grinned, putting another handful of quarters in the machine. He stared intently on the screen ahead of him, watching the pixelated art as if his life depended on it. He started off strong, grabbing almost every piece of blink fruit that appeared on the floor, but it soon became clear to him that he had lost his touch. So he did what most men in his position would do when his pride was on the line. 

 

He cheated. 

 

Gripping the joystick tightly, he bumped against Sam on purpose, trying to break his concentration on the game. Sam glared at him and Gabriel pushed him lightly again with his hip, using his smaller size to try and push Sam off of his balance.

 

It worked, the lead Sam had gained on him closing with each passing second. Gabriel smirked at him over his shoulder, bumping him one last time. 

 

Sam all but stumbled away from the controller, giving Gabriel a look of false indignation. He couldn’t really be mad, not when the man looked up at him like that with those big golden eyes and that grin on his face. Sam was pretty sure he’d let Gabriel get away with murder so long as he looked at him like that. He couldn’t deny the surge of joy he felt as the game ended and announced that Player 1 had won. It was silly, but that look of pride and accomplishment on Gabriel’s face meant more to him than winning some arcade game. 

 

He wanted to make Gabriel smile like that all the time. He wanted to be the reason his eyes lit up like that. 

 

Sam couldn’t have been more grateful for the dim lighting of the arcade as it helped to hide his growing blush. He shook his head, running one hand through his hair as Gabriel turned to look at him with a smug grin.

 

“Took you long enough.”

 

Gabriel stuck out his tongue at him. “Told you, I’m just warming up.Give an old man a break. Now c’mon plenty of games to play!” 

 

Over the next hour, Gabriel dragged Sam to ask many different types of games as he could. He found out that even if Sam was good at Pacman, he sucked at skeeball, and Gabriel may have caused a small scene doing his victory dance after beating Sam spectacularly in it. Sam paid him back at the basketball shooting game, and they found neither one of them was very good at tossing beanbags or knocking over targets with baseballs. They racked up tickets here and there, and Gabriel stuffed them into his pockets so they could pick out prizes before they went back to Bobby’s. 

 

Finally Gabriel brought Sam over to one of his favorite games; House of the Dead I. It was old, and the graphics were terrible, but Gabriel stood by its integrity as a corny zombie first person shooter. He had fond memories of this name, of playing with his brothers and being scared out of his wits. The booth for the game was small, and the two of them ended up pressed side by side, the curtains on either side shielding them from view. 

 

Gabriel picked up the plastic gun, and Sam did the same. The game began, and Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. Zombies were popping up left and right, and Gabriel began shooting at them, shouting as they startled him. 

 

“Right right, Sammy!” he commanded, taking out a pixelated group of zombie frogs on the left as they came to the first boss. “Take out the little flying guy, you have to shoot him in the head!” 

 

Sam did his best to do as Gabriel told him, but he was all thumbs with the plastic gun. He let out a small squeak as a zombie appeared on his side, reaching out to grab at him. He fired blindly, reactively stepping to the side and pressing against Gabriel. 

 

“Ahhgh!” He growled as more appeared. He began to blindly spray into the mass of zombies as they swarmed, but his side of the screen ended up red anyways, and the game apathetically informed him that he was dead. 

 

“Damn it.” He huffed, but he wasn't really too upset over it. Gabriel was still going, and he was doing much better than Sam had. The teen dropped his gun back into its slot on the console, content to watch the older man take on the horde. He was pressed in against him, the small space not giving him much room to move back. In the darkness of the booth, Sam could almost imagine it was something more than it was. 

 

He leaned over Gabriel's shoulder, pointing off to the side as a flying zombie came at him. “Over there.”

 

Gabriel listened to Sam, and fired at the zombie coming at him. He wished Sam were still alive to help him, but he was doing okay on his own. It was harder than he thought, especially when he was distracted by the fact that Sam was practically in his lap.  

 

Gabriel fought valiantly, but in the end, he died before the final boss. He slammed his gun back into the holster, and leaned back, panting after his digital fight with the bunch of fake zombies. He wasn't proud of that fact he was out of breath, but it had been a lot of fun.  

 

He turned to look at Sam and he wasn't prepared for how close he was to his face. In the dark, Sam’s eyes shown brilliantly reflecting the light from the video game screen.  

 

“Hey Sammy.” 

 

“Hey, Gabe…” Sam grinned nervously down at him. There was barely an inch between them, and Sam could clearly smell the sweetness of Gabriel's body wash. He bit at his bottom lip, his eyes glued to Gabriel’s whiskey amber orbs. 

 

He couldn't bring himself to look away, even though he knew he should. They were treading dangerously close to the line they weren't allowed to cross. All it would take was for one of them to lean forward, and it would all be over. 

 

No one could see them though, could they? No one needed to know what happened between them, here in the darkness of the booth. Sam let out a shaky breath. 

 

Gabriel knew he should pull away, but he didn't. They were so close to being free, so close to the finish line. Sam was officially an adult, as of today, and his graduation was right around the corner. 

 

One kiss couldn't hurt anything, could it? Not here in the dark, where no one could see them. No one would have to know about it, except the two of them. They could leave it at that, until Sam graduated. After that, no one could stop them.   

 

Gabriel knew it that moment he had never felt this way about anyone else. He's dated on and off, but it always ended for one reason or another, and he didn’t know whether or not he could bear seeing this relationship go the same way as the others. He didn’t want to think about it, not when Sam was this close, and freedom was only two weeks away. He decided to live in the moment. 

 

Gabriel closed his eyes and leaned forward, unable or unwilling to pull away. He pressed his lips gently to Sam’s, pulling him in close. 

 

Sam hesitated only a moment, and only because he felt like he was supposed to. He certainly didn't want to. He leaned forward into Gabriel's touch tentatively, tilting his head just enough that their noses didn't bump. One hand pressed against Gabriel's chest, fisting in his shirt, though he wasn't sure if it was to keep Gabriel close or to keep himself together. 

 

He pulled back just enough to breathe. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared uncertainly down into Gabriel's. Had he screwed up again? Gabriel had kissed him this time, so that meant it was alright, right? Sam didn't think he could handle losing Gabriel again, not when they were so close to being really free. 

 

“I-I'm sorry,” he whispered into the near darkness, the flashing screen of the game casting eerie green and red across Gabriel's face. 

 

“That's my line,” Gabriel breathed, even though he wasn't. He wasn't sorry, not really. “This one’s on me, kiddo.” 

 

He didn't know why he felt the need to do it, but he felt like he had to, like something inside him needed the contact. He sensed Sam’s hesitance, his hand still grasping Gabriel’s shirt, holding him still so he couldn't pull away. Not that he wanted to. 

 

“You can tell me if you don't want this anymore,” Gabriel whispered back, his stomach doing anguished flip flops. “I won't be hurt, I'll still always be your friend, no matter what.” He told him. “Christmas was a long time ago, I'd understand if this isn't what you want anymore. You just have to tell me.” 

 

He watched Sam’s face in the ghostly light of the game, holding his breath as he waited for his response. 

 

“I never stopped wanting this, Gabe. Don't really think I ever will.” Sam mumbled, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the arcade. He gave a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Christmas, and then losing you, it all made me realize that much. Part of me actually hoped you had been right, that this wasn’t real, that I was just projecting, but it is and I’m not. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt like this with...the only person I’ve ever felt safe with, or happy with.”

 

He couldn’t believe he’d just said that, that he’d laid himself open like that once again. He just prayed that this time, when Gabriel shot him down, he’d be able to handle it without falling to pieces. He could only put himself back together so many times. 

 

“But, if you still don’t want this...want me...I understand.” He tightened his hold on Gabriel’s shirt as he waited for the man to reply, the familiar itch of insecurity crawling over his skin.

 

“You're a smart kid, but you can be dense sometimes,” Gabriel replied, chuckling just a little. “I just kissed you in case you didn't notice and it was never about not wanting you.”  

 

He smiled at him, hoping to put him at ease. “I do want this. I wanted it then but you were hurting. I didn't want to make it worse.” 

 

It was hard for Gabriel to put into words what he was feeling. He wanted to tell Sam how much he meant to him, how wonderful and perfect Gabriel thought he was, but he didn't know if he could get it out without sounding pathetic and stupid. He was older, more experienced, but he still didn’t know what he was doing. 

 

“I care about you, Sammy, and not just because I'm your friend. It goes so much deeper than that. I know it's wrong while I'm still your teacher, but I won't always be,” he knew he was rambling, and he cut himself off abruptly.  

 

“I just...I'm not good at this...I… I want you...when this is all over….if you'll have me.” 

 

Sam chuckled, biting at his bottom lip, then coughed to cover the slight sob that followed. This was harder than he thought it would be, and it was overwhelming, but he didn’t want to let it, or Gabriel, go. He pulled the shorter man closer, wrapping him in his arms and pressing his nose against Gabriel’s temple. He drew in a deep breath, wanting to remember his scent until they could be together like this again.

 

“I’m yours, Gabe.” He whispered. “That’s not gonna change, not in the next two weeks or the next two years or the next two decades. I’m yours.”

 

He pulled back finally, putting a step between them. He felt overheated, and the small space of the booth suddenly felt too tight.

 

“Two weeks isn’t that long, right?” He wasn’t sure if he was asking or stating, but he gave Gabriel a crooked grin and a shrug. “What’s two weeks compared to six months?”

 

Gabriel didn’t know what to say. Once again, Sam had left him speechless. He felt the absence of Sam against him acutely, a rush of cool air where there had been been warmth only a second ago. He wanted to pull him closer again, but he knew Sam was right. Two weeks wasn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. It had been six months since Sam had kissed him at Christmas, and they’d survived apart until now, surely they could do it for another two weeks. 

 

Gabriel gave Sam a long look. “No, two weeks isn’t that long,” he repeated. “It’ll feel like it, but you’re right,  it isn’t.” 

 

He took a deep breath. “We better get home before Bobby thinks something’s up.” he said, sliding out of the booth. Or before he did something else stupid. 

 

Gabriel pulled the tickets they’d collected out of his pocket, and motioning towards the prize booth. “C’mon birthday boy, come and pick out your prize.” 

 

“I have everything I want,” Sam cringed at how cheesy he sounded as he followed Gabriel towards the booth, but it was true. He’d managed to pass, had gotten accepted to pretty much every college he’d hoped for, and he was finally, truly free of his father. The cherry on top of it all was Gabriel, and the man admitting that he returned Sam’s feelings. He didn’t need anything else. 

 

“Why don’t you pick something out for me?” He challenged, trying to recover from his first lame response. He gave him a grin as he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting or trembling in the wake of what had just happened. 

 

Most of the prizes were pretty childish anyways, ranging from tiny erasers and bouncy balls, to large rainbow slinkies, but they had a few things worth getting, like the iPod in one case, and the drone in another. When Gabriel gave him a look that clearly said he wasn’t having any of that, Sam took another long look at the case. He took a handful of the tickets from Gabriel and moved in front of him so he couldn’t see what Sam was getting. 

 

“Give me one of those. The red one, please.” He pointed to one of the bins. The attendant on the other side pulled out his prize and took his tickets, sliding the small plastic wrapped item across the counter. Sam snatched it up with a grin on his face.

 

“Come on,” he nodded towards the door, “let’s get going.” He didn’t wait for Gabriel to agree before he began walking, trying to pry the wrapper open as he moved. He waited until they were both in the car to look over at Gabriel, a goofy grin on his face as his cheeks bloomed red with a blush. He held out the prize, offering it to Gabriel nervously.

 

Gabriel couldn't help the goofy grin the spread over his face when he saw what Sam held out to him. 

 

It was a large red ring pop.  

 

He took it from Sam’s hand with a laugh, slipping it over the third finger on his left hand. “You didn't have to do that, kiddo,” he told him, starting the car. “Those tickets were supposed to be for you, but you know I can never resist anything this sweet. Thank you.” 

 

He gave the ring a suck, slurping it almost obscenely as he pulled out of the parking lot and began driving down the road towards Bobby’s house.  

 

They chatted about normal things on the drive, like everything was normal between them, like they hadn’t just kissed again, and weren’t making plans for when they could do it without fear of reprisal. 

 

By the time they got closer to home, Gabriel knew his lips and tongue were bright red from the candy. He slowed down, not wanting their time together to end just yet. Once they got into the house, it would be time to slip their masks back on, and pretend nothing had happened, to go back to their carefully monitored, assigned roles. 

 

“Happy birthday, Sammy.” 

 

Sam couldn’t help but watch Gabriel lick and suck at the ring pop. His intentions had been fairly innocent, if a bit corny, but Gabriel was being damn near lewd with it. Not that he minded really, but it was turning the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach into an angry swarm. He swallowed and looked away, shifting in his seat a bit to try and ease some of the sudden tightness in his jeans. 

 

“I know, that’s why I got it. I figured, you can’t reject me if I’m giving you candy AND jewelry.” He gave a crooked grin. It faded as they neared home. He wasn’t ready to go back yet. He’d been having a good time with Gabriel, just the two of them, no pretenses to keep up. He wasn’t ready to lose that again, even if it was only for a few weeks. 

 

“Thanks, for taking me out and for the presents and the arcade. I had a really good time.” He wanted to say more, but he kept it simple. It wasn’t going to do either of them any good if he started getting all whiny and mopey. By the time they pulled up outside Bobby’s house, both their moods had sobered. Sam wanted to be sad, but it was hard to do anything more than smile when he looked over to see Gabriel sucking at the ring pop again. 

 

Bobby was waiting for them, giving them both a calculating look. He seemed satisfied with whatever it was he found, because he gave them a slight smile before heading back inside. Sam unloaded his gifts, opting to hold them as he bid Gabriel good night so as to keep his hands from shaking. Gabriel didn’t wait around and Sam was pretty sure that was a good thing because he didn’t think he could take the distance again after the night they’d had. He waited until the taillights of the van disappeared around the bend of the driveway before he headed inside.

 

Two weeks, he told himself as he said goodnight to Bobby as well and headed up the stairs. Two week and it would all be over. Two weeks and there was nothing anyone could do to keep them apart. 

 

A lot could happen in two weeks, but Sam was confident that it would be for the better, and as he crawled into bed, he couldn’t help but send a quick text to Gabriel. 

 

_ Two weeks. :) _

 

He locked his phone and closed his eyes, going over his plans for graduation for the thousandth time as he drifted off. He just hoped Gabriel liked them. 


	12. Chapter 12

[ ](https://imgur.com/osOLK9A)

Gabriel couldn’t believe his luck. Every bad thing that he could think of had happened to him as he tried to get out of school. His last period class had made a mess of their lab experiment, he’d forgotten the graded labs he promised Bobby he had finished in his car, he got locked out of the lab room and had to track down a janitor so he could get back into the room where his keys, and wallet were. It got so bad that he sent a text to Sam that he’d meet him at Bobby’s when he finished for their normal tutoring session. 

It took him a lot longer than he’d hoped to scrub the lab tables and the floor, soap and potassium permanganate were surprisingly hard to remove from the surface, and he didn’t even want to know how the soapy substance managed to get in every available crevice of the classroom. Bobby would accept nothing less than perfection, and he had a date with Sam, so he silenced his grumbling and cleaned. 

He was sore when he finally finished, his back aching from bending over, as he walked to his car. He grumbled as he got in, starting the engine, and pulling out. If he was lucky, Sam might still be on his way home, and he could give him a ride the rest of the way. 

Gabriel drove down the street, humming to himself, smiling as he thought of Sam. Their freedom got closer and closer every day, he could almost taste it on his tongue. He had so many plans of things he wanted to show Sam, dates he wanted to take him on, things he wanted to buy for him. He was almost giddy with the thought of it, as he turned into the next street. He saw the figure of Sam in the distance, the long hair and height giving him away. 

But Gabriel’s heart dropped as he saw a second figure come into view behind him. 

John Winchester. 

~~~~~

Sam knew he should have just waited at the school for Gabriel to finish. He’d had a feeling in his gut that something was going to go wrong, and he should have listened to it. Why the hell didn’t he ever listen to it?

Now he was stuck, standing on the sidewalk, with John fucking Winchester yelling and berating him. He’d been doing so well, too, and now he was certain that, if nothing else, the nightmares would be back. He let out a huff as the man invaded his personal space; his face was purple and the vein on the side of his neck throbbed distractingly. A large part of the teen wanted to find somewhere to hide, somewhere safe and far away from the man that had twisted and broken him. 

He opened his mouth to speak, only to feel the flat of John’s hand against his cheek as the coppery tang of blood filled his mouth. He heard Gabriel’s van before he saw it over John’s shoulder, and he silently prayed that Gabriel would stay where he was, but he knew that was a futile wish. Even if he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell against John Winchester, Gabriel wouldn’t walk away from a fight if it had to happen, and sure as hell not when Sam was involved. 

Sam opened his mouth again, this time to tell Gabriel to stay put, but that didn’t go as intended either. Laughter bubbled up inside him at the look on John’s face, and he couldn’t help but let it out. It only served to enrage the man all that much more, and Sam wondered just how purple he could turn before he passed out. 

Gabriel had barely turned the van off before he went rushing towards Sam and his father. His whole world swam in red when he saw John strike him, and he didn’t think he’d ever wanted to hurt someone so much in his life. He ran as fast as he could toward them, nothing else in the world mattering more to him right now than getting between Sam and the man who had made his life a living hell. 

Gabriel didn’t hesitate. He forced his way between them, trying to to shield Sam with his body. 

“Touch him again,” Gabriel growled. “And I’ll kill you.” 

Gabriel wasn’t playing nice anymore. The first time, when John had showed up at school, Gabriel had tried to be an adult, giving John the chance to leave of his own volition. But this was different. They weren’t in school, and Gabriel had had just about enough of John Winchester. This had gone on for far too long and he wasn’t about to let it continue, not as long as he was still drawing breath. 

Gabriel let all the feelings that he’d had since he found out Sam was being abused, simmer in his blood, fueling the anger that was pooling there. He wasn’t going to back down no matter what. 

“Sam, go to Bobby’s” 

Sam chuckled again and shook his head, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of one sleeve.

“No, Gabe. Not this time. I’m done running from him.”

John let out an almost maniacal laugh, and hissed out, “Did the little bitch finally grow a pair? You really think you can take me on, boy?”

Sam tugged at Gabriel’s arm, trying to get him away from John. It wouldn’t take much from the ex-Marine to put the smaller man in the hospital, and that wasn’t something Sam wanted to see. 

“If I have to, yeah.” He tugged at Gabriel’s arm again. When John raised a hand, Sam braced himself for the impact of another strike, but it never came. Instead, the man was pointing a finger accusingly at Gabriel. 

“You really think he cares about you? No one cares about you, you worthless little shit. He’s just after a good fuck. Ain’t that right?” He sneered at both of them. “You act like you want to protect him from the big bad wolf, but you...you’re just like me, aren’t you? You get him away from me, just so you can have that ass all for yourself.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring angrily at the accusation, but in the back of his mind, he couldn't help wondering if it was true. 

He was supposed to protect Sam, to watch out for him and instead he'd developed feelings to him. It was true he didn't just want Sam for sex, he loved all of him but that didn't make the sentiment any less true. John was supposed to take care of Sam, and instead he preyed on him. Could it be said that Gabriel was doing the same, lying in wait? 

He swallowed the bitter bile in his throat, trying not to show John that he had hit a nerve. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not here and not now when Sam needed him. 

“None of that is true,” Gabriel spat. “You dickless old bastard, not a single word.” He didn't look at Sam, afraid of what he might see in his eyes. “Do us all a favor and go die in a ditch somewhere.” 

John took a step forward and Gabriel could smell the booze on his breath, swampy and stinging, in his nostrils. 

“How long ago did you start banging him, teach?” John taunted, chuckling under his breath. “Let me guess, right about the time he ran away. Is Singer in on this too? Does he know this useless whore is earning his grades on his back?” 

It was one thing, Sam realized, to have his father berate, belittle, and downright abuse him. It was another thing entirely for the asshole to turn his attentions on Gabriel. Sam could feel the heat as it rose inside him, could taste the bitter sharp sting of anger on his tongue. He growled and shoved John backwards, away from Gabriel and off of the sidewalk. 

John stumbled and staggered before regaining his balance, a look of pure rage distorting his features as he looked at Sam. He moved to charge the teen, but Sam was already moving, his fist flying out to slam into his father’s jaw. He didn’t wait for the man to recover before landing a second, then a third blow, knocking him to the asphalt. When John tried to stand again, Sam caught him in the ribs with one swift kick and sent him back again. He could hear the crack of bone as he struck, but he didn’t care. After all of the cracked and broken ribs, the concussions, the bruises and the scars, he felt oddly justified in what he was doing. John Winchester deserved to rot in a ditch, as Gabriel had so eloquently put it, but he deserved to know a bit of the pain he’d caused before he crawled into one. 

Sam had gained a good deal of height and muscle since he’d left his father’s house. It wasn’t readily apparent from the loose, relaxed clothing he wore, but he knew it was there. With a huff he reached down and jerked the drunken man to his feet, holding him up by the front of his jacket as he tried to fall again. 

“Never. Come. Near. Us. Again.” Sam hissed, practically spitting John’s bloodied face. “If I so much as see you again, I will kill you.”

He didn’t wait for a response, though he knew he likely wouldn’t get one, as he let his father go and stepped back, watching almost gleefully as he fell back onto his ass once again. He let out a shaky breath as he ran a hand through his hair, leaving streaks of red in the tawny strands, and turned away.

Shit. Gabriel was staring at him with some unknown mix of emotions glinting in his golden eyes. Shame blossomed in his chest, strong enough to make him feel sick as he took another step back. 

Gabriel smothered the urge to run to Sam like a mother hen, to fawn over him and make sure he was okay. Despite the fact that he had just been in a fight, John Winchester hadn’t even had time to throw a punch. He was sitting on the asphalt, as if in shock, not moving, just staring into space. 

There were several times that Gabriel had almost stepped in, had almost stopped the fight, but he hadn’t. Sam needed this. John had abused Sam since he was a child, over and over again, night after night, for something that wasn’t Sam’s fault. The way Gabriel figured it after all he had done, John Winchester got off easy. He was sure that a beating wasn’t something Sam’s therapist would prescribe, but as Sam stood in front of him, he looked ten times better than he’d ever looked coming back from therapy. 

Gabriel waited until John scuttled away, to speak. 

“That was...that was… wow, Sammy,” Gabriel stammered. He knew he shouldn’t be condoning it, but God if the man didn’t deserve it. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.” he told him. 

He went to put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, but he thought better of it, John’s recriminations ringing in his ears. Even if they hadn’t done anything more than kiss, it didn’t matter. John had accused him of wanting Sam for himself. That much was true. He wanted Sam, and he had for awhile. He knew that he wasn’t what John claimed he was, but that didn’t stop his words from scalding. 

“Let’s get you home,” Gabriel replied, turning towards his van. “Bobby’s gunna wanna hear all about this.”

Sam nodded slightly, refusing to look back at John as he scampered off. He didn’t matter, and Sam had come to the realization that he never had. He picked up his bag from where he’d dropped it in the grass and silently headed for the van. Gabriel wasn’t mad at him, at least not that he was letting on, but there was still something off, something dark in his eyes that Sam couldn’t name. His stomach churned as he climbed into the passenger seat. 

He didn’t say a word as Gabriel started the car, and he remained silent as they made their way to Bobby’s. Gabriel wasn’t saying much either, and that bothered Sam more than the guilt that was slowly creeping through his veins. Something was wrong. He’d messed up, he just knew it, and now Gabriel wouldn’t want him anymore. He stared down at his busted knuckles and the drying blood that streaked over his hands. 

Would John go to the police, he wondered idly? Would he press charges and have Sam arrested? The idea left him feeling oddly numb when he was certain he should be feeling fear or anxiety on some level. What did that say about him? Was that why Gabriel seemed different? Could he somehow sense Sam’s apathy? Did it make him a bad person? 

“I’m sorry…” he muttered as they turned off the main road and into Bobby’s driveway. He didn’t know what else to say. So many questions swirled about inside his head, and he had no clue how to even go about beginning to answer any of them.

Gabriel turned to him. “For what?” He asked. “You had every right to hit him for what he did to you, Sam. Don't you ever feel sorry for standing up for yourself and giving that bastard what he deserved.” He stated. That much was true in Gabriel's eyes. Sam hadn't ran away from his father this time. Instead he'd stood up for not just himself, but for Gabriel as well. Gabriel couldn't imagine the sort of strength it took for Sam to even talk back to his father like that after what he’d been through, let alone throw a fist. 

“I'm happy that you did it, I just...I'm the one who should be sorry. I froze up out there. I'm supposed to protect you, and I just…” he hit the steering wheel. He wanted to blurt it all out, everything he was feeling about what John had said but that would make it worse. 

He knew what Sam would say, that he wasn't at all like his dad, that this was different, but Gabriel didn't know if he could accept it. 

“I failed, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again.” He said. 

He turned into Bobby’s driveway and parked, looking down at his hands on the steering wheel. 

“You?” Sam gave him a confused look. “You haven’t done anything, Gabriel. You’ve never failed me. Without you, I’d probably be dead or something. I’m the one that lost it. I’m the one that just beat the shit out of a grown man in the middle of the street in broad daylight.”

Sam didn’t understand why Gabriel was apologizing. He was the one that had done wrong, he was the one that had once again fucked it all up, not Gabriel. He was the one that was supposed to be apologizing and beating himself up. He looked down, staring at his hands as he flexed his fingers. They’d be bruised come morning, and were already starting to ache as he moved them.

“What’s worse…” he looked up and straight ahead, afraid to see what his words would bring to light in Gabriel’s eyes once he spoke them. “I’m not even sorry. I hurt him, could have killed him, probably would have too, if you hadn’t been standing there. I should feel something, guilt or shame, and I thought I had but then I realized I only felt ashamed because you had watched, not because I had done it. I just feel...numb. What’s that make me? Twisted? Broken? Evil?”

He heaved a heavy, shaking sigh, his breath rattling about in his chest as if it were hollow. “The things he said about you, they weren’t true. You’re nothing like him. You never could be.” Sam finally dared to glance at the man in the driver’s seat, his eyes wide with realization.

“I am.”

“That’s not true,” Gabriel retorted. “Sam, that’s not true at all.” He turned to face him, his eyes searching his face. 

“You’re the bravest person I know,” he continued. “There aren’t many people who could have come out from what you did. You didn’t just survive, you got out and you thrived. You could never be anything like John even if you tried to,” Gabriel insisted, running a hand through his hair. “You’re the farthest from evil that a person could ever be.” 

He couldn’t think of what else to say, there just weren’t words. The mere thought that Sam could ever even entertain the idea that he was anything like John Winchester made him feel queasy, sick to his very soul. Sam was wonderful, and kind and compassionate. He was clever where John was dull, loving where John was heartless. There were not two people in the world that were farther apart in temperament than Sam and the man who sired him. 

“He didn’t give you a choice, Sammy” Gabriel kept talking, trying to reassure Sam that John’s words were false even as Gabriel took them to heart. “It wasn’t like you tracked him down and beat him. He came after you, and you defended yourself, and you protected me. Hopefully that beating will make him think twice about coming after you again. I would never judge you for doing what was right.” 

“I…” Sam swallowed, trying to force down the prickling heat of tears as the cropped up, making his vision blurry and his throat tight. He squeezed his eyes shut, fisting his hands as they rested on his lap. The teen didn’t move for a several moments as he struggled not to break down completely. Gabriel didn’t need to see that, not again. 

“I hope you’re right.” Was all he could manage to mutter once he was able to speak again. His voice cracked at the end, but he ignored it as he gathered his bag and climbed out of the van. He prayed Gabriel was right, and that he was wrong. He never wanted to be anything like John Winchester. If he was turning in to his father, though, he knew there was only one thing for it. He couldn’t let anyone suffer the way he had, and he refused to be the reason behind it. “Gabe…”

He turned back to look at the man still sitting in the driver’s seat. “Could you...could you just do me one favor? If I am like him, if I start to become him, stop me. Do me a favor and just put a bullet in my brain, because I don’t think I could ever live with knowing I’d hurt you, or anyone else.”

‘Coward,’ his inner voice quipped, sounding oddly like his father. ‘Just do the world a favor and put a bullet in your own damn head. Then no one will ever have to deal with a pathetic, weak, cowardly little bitch like you ever again. Then they can all go back to living...happily...ever...after.’

He shook his head and gave Gabriel a pleading look.

Gabriel climbed out of the car after him. He walked up to Sam, looking up as he took his face in his hands. He didn’t care if Bobby saw, or anyone else for that matter. The shame that was bubbling in Gabriel’s gut right now was his own problem to deal with, and he would deal with it later. Right now, Sam needed him, he needed reassurance that he wouldn’t become the thing that he feared the most. 

“You listen to me, Sam Winchester,” he said softly. “I’ve never lied to you and I’m not going to start now. You’re nothing like your father, and you will not become him. You’re too strong, too smart, too wonderful to ever even think that about yourself. Your father is a damn coward, and you are not, no matter what he says. He saw what he wanted to see, and what he wanted was someone to beat on because he was too cowardly to deal with what happened. You did what you had to to survive him, and you came out on the other side. That’s strength, Sammy.” 

He didn’t let go of his face, just held him for a moment, and gave him a smile. “You are worth protecting. Maybe you’ll never believe me, but just know that everything I’m saying is true. You’re strong, and brave. You’re smart. You’re going to go to college and be a kick-ass lawyer, and save so many kids. You’re going to use everything you’ve been through and make a difference. You’re going to be amazing.” 

Finally he let go. “Now let’s go inside before Bobby puts my head on a spike.” 

Sam nodded numbly, wanting to believe every word Gabriel told him. He followed him into the house, dropping his bag by the door as he headed into the kitchen to wash the blood from his hands. The tight, cracking feeling of it on his skin wasn’t helping him feel any better, and while he would have prefered a long, hot shower, scrubbing his hands raw in the kitchen sink would have to suffice for now.

He returned, hands scrubbed and still red from the scalding water, to find Gabriel recounting the events of the afternoon while Bobby listened. Sam couldn’t ignore the grin of pride on Bobby’s face, or the light in Gabriel’s eyes as he spoke. They weren’t mad at him at all, and that didn’t sit right with him. He was plenty mad at himself for all of them, though. 

“You really beat the snot outta your old man?” Bobby asked him, not even bothering to hide the tone of pride. 

Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Yeah, I did, now can we please stop talking about it?”

Gabriel offered a sheepish grin. “Sorry, kiddo.” 

Even though it wasn’t really his place, he couldn’t help but be a little proud of Sam. The last time Sam had seen his father, he was a shaking, cowering mess, unable to put full sentences together. In the months since then, Sam had gained enough confidence to not only talk back to John, but go toe to toe with him. That was a big improvement. 

He knew Sam was feeling guilty and was very conscious of the fact that he’d just used his fists on another person. He was so close to the situation that he couldn’t see how different the situations in which they became violent. Sam was only fighting back because John had struck him first, he didn’t seek him out like John had done. He didn’t hit him for an imagined slight, or because he was angry. But Gabriel could understand that using his hands on someone after being used in much the same way had to be difficult and confusing. 

With Bobby there, Gabriel’s guilt over John’s words came back with a vengeance. Bobby had trusted him, and again he had broken that trust over a moment of weakness. He needed to go. There were things he needed to think about, things he needed to do. 

He turned to Sam and Bobby. “I’m going to head out.” 

Sam followed Gabriel to the door, his hands stuffed into his pockets to hide the bruised and rapidly swelling knuckles. He scuffed the toe of one shoe against the hardwood floor of the foyer trying to think of something he could say to make things right between them, but nothing was coming to mind. Instead, when he opened his mouth, the only words that came out were him trying to convince Gabriel that John had been wrong. 

“He was trying to rile you up,” Sam looked at him from beneath his lashes as he spoke. “He doesn’t want me getting close to anyone, and he thinks that if I think you’re like him, I’ll push you away. I don’t though, and I never will. You know that, right? You’re nothing like him. Nothing at all like him.”

He didn’t want Gabriel to leave. He didn’t want to be alone. Even if it meant sitting on opposite ends of the threadbare couch and watching old reruns on TV, he’d take it if Gabriel let him.

“You don’t have to go...you can stay, I can cook dinner, or order a pizza or something.”

‘He doesn’t want to be with you, idiot. He never wanted to be with you. Who would? You’re hardly a catch.’ Sam shook his head to quiet the voice and looked back up at Gabriel once again.

Gabriel regarded Sam for a moment. He wanted to believe that, but in that moment, he wasn’t sure if he could. If he had nothing to hide, nothing that he was ashamed of, why had John’s words cut him to his very core? It wasn’t just disgust he had felt for John’s words when they’d come tumbling out of his vile mouth like a drunkard’s refuse. He had felt shame then, and guilt too. If he had nothing to feel guilty about, then why did he feel the need to get as far away from Sam as he could and never come back?

It wasn’t as if he wanted to. He had never felt this strongly about anyone in his life, but the fact remained that Gabriel had wanted Sam before he turned eighteen. He had sworn to protect Sam, to do what was best for him, and right now that included protecting Sam from him. 

“I would love to, kiddo,” he smiled sheepishly at him. “But I have some last minute grading to catch up on, and I think you deserve some rest and relaxation after that mess.” 

He reached up and ruffled Sam’s hair. “I’ll catch you later.” 

Sam nodded as he watched Gabriel walk down the front steps and to his van. He wanted to ignore the growing feeling of finality he’d gotten at Gabriel’s tone, but he couldn’t. It was already gnawing at his insides like some parasite. He hated the idea that he was letting the one person in the entire world that gave a damn about him walk away, and he hated even more that he was pretty sure it would be the last time he did so. 

Sam shut the door as Gabriel drove off, turning the lock with a dejected sigh. Why did everyone he cared about have to leave him? Gabriel hadn’t said it, had promised to see him later, but Sam knew from his tone that something was different, that they (whatever they were) wasn’t going to see the light of day. He growled and slammed both hands against the door. He jerked as a hand fell on his shoulder, and part of him wanted to shove Bobby away and storm off to wallow in his self-loathing and anger alone. Instead, his cry of anger turned into a broken sob as he felt everything around him begin to crumble. 

“Don’t go cryin’ over it, son. You didn’t give John Winchester nothin’ he didn’t deserve. A lesser man probably would have killed him.” Bobby patted him on the shoulder, but the man wasn’t prepared to have the giant of a teen wrap his arms around him and use his shoulder as a headrest. 

“N-not J-j-john. G-gabe. I f-f-fucked up.” Sam managed to stammer between sobs. “R-ruined every-y-thing.”

Bobby didn’t have words to make the boy feel better. He wasn’t exactly great with these kinds of situations. He did what he could, letting Sam cry on his shoulder as he patted him awkwardly on the back. 

\------- 

Gabriel hated himself as he drove home, wanting with every fiber of his being to turn around and drive back to Bobby’s house. He wanted to take Sam into his arms and hold him close, tell him everything was going to be alright, but something had broken inside of him, smashed by John’s words. He loved Sam, but maybe the best thing for both of them was to be apart. Sam was going to college in a few short months, and although he seemed to think that he would never feel for anyone what he felt for Gabriel, Gabriel knew better. There would be other people for him, better people for Sam. Despite what he believed, he wasn’t hard to love. 

Gabriel slowly pulled into the parking lot, parking in the spot he almost always did. He sat behind the seat of his van for a moment, trying not to wallow in his memories of Sam, but he couldn’t stop himself. He saw Sam sitting in the passenger seat, Sam standing, bleeding in his doorway. 

So much had happened since he’d met Sam way back in September, good and bad, and Gabriel didn’t know how he was going to manage to forget it and move on. That was the only conclusion he could come to, the only option he could see. Sam didn’t see it now, but eventually, when he moved on and fall in love with someone else, he would see it. 

He got out of the car, walking toward his apartment with his head hung. He didn’t want to see the memories here either, Sam sleeping on his couch, in his kitchen, talking to him and finally coming clean about his abuse. He must have trusted Gabriel something fierce to show up that night. It took a special kind of strength to trust anyone after what Sam had been through. 

Gabriel dumped his things on the floor next to the front door, slipped his shoes off and padded into the kitchen. He thought about the bottle of whiskey in his freezer, tempting as it might be but he couldn’t get the smell of alcohol from John Winchester out of his mind. Instead, he opted for his bedroom. He threw himself down on his bed, burying his face against the softness of his down pillow. He knew what he had to do, and he knew it would break Sam’s heart. It would also break the promise he had made to Sam all those months ago, that he would always be there no matter what. Gabriel hated breaking promises, but what other choice did he have? 

Gabriel rolled over, slipping his phone out of his pocket. He debated calling Bobby to tell him, but he knew the old man would try to talk him out of it, or yell at him for hurting Sam. He didn’t think he could face Bobby, feeling like he felt about it. 

He opted for the cowards way out instead. He deleted Sam’s number from his phone, and cleared the text messages he had saved. With shaky fingers, he scrolled to his photos, intent on deleting the photo he had taken at Christmas, of Sam’s happy face. He looked at for a moment, remembering trimming the tree, and cooking. The present Sam had given him that day came to live on his bedside table, never far from his field of vision. He’d read it a couple times since then, whenever he got stressed or upset, it helped calm him down. It had all started that night, the path they were on now. One kiss, and that was it. One kiss had started their path into shame and heartbreak. 

Gabriel’s finger hovered over the delete button, as he stared at Sam’s face. But he found that he couldn’t do it. He couldn't just delete the traces of Sam from his life and pretend it never happened. Disgusted with himself, Gabriel tossed his phone to the other side of his bed. He curled up under his covers, trying to block out the world around him. 

He wished it were only that easy.


	13. Chapter 13

[ ](https://imgur.com/kx053pm)

Five weeks. 

It had been five agonizingly long weeks since Sam had beaten his father in the middle of the street. Five weeks since he’d let Gabriel walk out of his life. Five weeks since he’d heard a word from the man. He’d tried to ignore the ache that had settled behind his ribs, tried be strong and just deal with things, but it was a struggle just to get out of bed most mornings and he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep going. Some days he didn’t want to. 

He’d graduated four weeks ago, and he should have been happy and proud of himself, but he was just numb. Everything was numb now. The only time he felt anything was when he allowed himself to think about Gabriel, when he let himself break down and cry in the middle of the night, wrapped up in the sweatshirt Gabriel had given him. 

Sam would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about ending things. He was a waste of air and space, and the world might not be better off without him, but it certainly wouldn’t be any worse. He was pathetic and useless and broken. The voice in his head had grown steadily louder as the days went by, reminding him of what he was, of the fact that everyone he ever loved ended up leaving him, and how it was all his fault because he didn’t deserve them anyways. 

The only thing that kept him alive was the knowledge that Gabriel would never forgive him for doing something so stupid. Even if he didn’t want Sam anymore, if he ever had to start with, Gabriel had always been adamant that Sam was worthwhile and that he would do something good with his life, and Sam refused to let all the time and effort Gabriel spent on making sure it happened go to waste. 

So, he’d shoved the thought away like some plague infested rat and just kept trudging on. 

Now, five weeks after his world fell apart, he found himself standing in line at one of the local autoparts stores, his neck itching as he tried to ignore the feeling that someone was staring him down. 

Dean couldn’t believe that Sam was standing there in front of him. He’d gone into the store to pick up some part for the Impala and there he was, just standing in line at the checkout. Dean had almost dropped the plugs and bulbs he was holding he was shaking so bad. 

Things had not ended well between them the last time he had seen Sam. Sam slugged him one and thrown his apologies and excuses back in his face, and Dean had deserved it all. As he drove home that night, he thought about what Sam had said, really thought about it and realized that Sam was right. What John had done to him, what he’d done to both of them wasn’t right, and Dean had made so many excuses, he’d started believing them himself. 

He’d confronted John after that, accused him of everything he’d done to Sam, and the man had not denied it, just spouted off some drunken nonsense about Sam having to replace their mom since she had died saving him. It had taken everything in him not to murder John where he stood for that. He’d settled for a left hook. 

John had come by his apartment several days later, banging on his door and causing a scene, ranting about Bobby Singer, and some other “cock-sucker” teacher who had taken Sam away from him. Dean had called the cops. He hadn’t seen or heard from his father since. 

He’d thought about what he would say to Sam after that, how he would apologize to him and make it up to him but now that Sam was standing right in front of him, he didn’t know what to do. He waited until Sam had checked out to speak. 

“Sammy?” 

Sam paused, his fingers clenching around the handles of the bag that held his purchases. Did he keep going or did he give his brother a chance? He vaguely recalled hearing John spout off about how he’d turned his only son against him, so maybe, Sam thought as a small bit of hope sparked inside his chest, maybe Dean wasn’t so lost to him after all. He let out a shaky puff of air and turned, steely hazel eyes meeting haunted and hopeful green. 

“Dean.” His tone was clipped. He’d wait for Dean to prove he’d changed before he allowed himself to accept that it was even possible. Until then, he was more than happy to keep a distance. The last thing he wanted was to get hurt. Again.

He waited patiently for his brother to check out, then turned again and led the way out of the store and into the parking lot. He tossed his bag into the passenger seat of Bobby’s old Camaro and leaned back against the door, his arms crossing over his chest defensively as he waited for Dean to speak.

Dean knew he shouldn’t expect any kindness from Sam. He didn’t deserve it after all he had put Sam through, after all he’d let happen to him. He’d failed gloriously as Sam’s big brother, so badly that Sam had had to turn to someone else to protect him when he was vulnerable. That part still stung, but Dean knew that what Sam had been through had been far worse. 

“Look,” Dean started, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I don’t know how to say this… I’m not good at this… but,” he took a deep breath and forced it out. “I’m sorry, Sammy. You were right.” 

He looked at his brother, noting the height and muscle he had gained in his time living with Bobby Singer Already he was taller than Dean by at least two inches, and probably twenty pounds. “You were right and I was wrong. I was making excuses for him because I didn’t want to admit it had gone that far. I failed as your brother, Sam. I can understand if you never want to see me again. I would deserve it.” 

He didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t good at touchy-feely things, or chick-flick moments. He had no idea how to let Sam know that he was wrong other that just saying it. 

 

Sam stared at Dean in silence for a long time, trying to decide what to to say. He'd apologized, and that was more than Sam had expected from him. He'd never once heard Dean tell anyone he was sorry for anything. Maybe he really had come to see things for what they were. 

Finally, he pushed off of the car, leveling his brother with a hard look. “You couldn't have stopped him. It's taken me a while, but I've come to realize that what he did to me...it's all on him. I can't blame myself and I can't blame you. You should have been there for me, sure, but you were a kid, same as me.”

Sam shifted for a moment before holding out his hand stiffly. “I'll accept your apology,” he began as Dean took his hand. “But it's gonna be a long time before I can trust you, Dean.”

Sam was pretty sure it would be a long time before he ever trusted anyone again. It seemed like the people he did trust just kept leaving him, abandoning him to deal with everything on his own. Then again, he thought, maybe that's what he needed. Maybe, if he worked through all of his problems on his own, Gabriel might see that he wasn't so broken anymore, and maybe he'd give Sam another chance. 

Dean took his hand. “That’s fair, Sammy,” he said with a smile. He hadn’t expected Sam to forgive him at all, not after their meeting around Christmas. Sam had stared at him with such hatred and contempt he was sure that he was never going to speak to him again. This was at least a start, and it was better than he deserved. 

“So…. uhhhhh,” he began, running a hand up the back of his neck through the short bristles of his hair, “You graduated last month, right? You going to college?” 

He had almost shown up at Sam’s graduation, he’d driven all the way there, but he’d only made it was far as the parking lot before he lost his nerve. He had no reason to be there. It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud of Sam for finishing high school, Dean hadn’t even made it there himself, but he didn’t deserve to be there. He had no claim on Sam’s achievements, he hadn’t helped at all. It was Sam’s day, and he was scared of what Bobby or the other teacher might do if he saw Dean show up. 

He did however make sure that John didn’t show up. The man’s keys had mysteriously disappeared that day, only to be found after locked in the backyard shed. John had been so drunk he couldn’t remember where he’d put them anyway, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the man go back inside from the window of the impala. 

At least he could give Sam that.

“Yeah, I-uh-I start in another month or so.” He nodded as he leaned back against the car once again. “Been trying to get things ready, get stuff packed and all.”

He realized as he'd begun packing that he didn't really need to buy much of anything beyond his books, and maybe a few odds and ends. Gabriel had given him a pretty good stock of the basics between his gifts at Christmas and Sam’s birthday. At first, he'd been tempted to throw all of it out, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn't get rid of the only things he had left of the man. 

“What about you? How's the shop?” He turned the conversation onto Dean, not really wanting to deal with the pain that still came with thinking about Gabriel and his own future without him. 

“It’s good. We had to hire a new guy to be able to handle all the extra customers we’ve been getting. His name is Benny, he’s southern. Makes mean biscuits and gravy if you ever wanna stop by the shop sometime,” Dean told him. He hadn’t known what to make of Benny when he started, a man that cooked like he did, but Dean had grown to like him, and his wife, Andrea, very much. 

Benny had invited Dean over for dinner a couple times since he started and it was eye-opening to see how normal families acted around each other. Benny’s father lived with them, and he lit up around his only son whenever he was in the room. John had never looked at anyone like that, not even their mother. John had never asked him about how work had gone, or what he was doing with his weekend. John didn’t ask about anything other than if Dean could get him some more booze. It was really no wonder Sam had left. Looking back, Dean was only surprised he hadn’t left sooner. 

Dean was curious about Sam’s life at Bobby’s. He knew and respected Bobby, but only from afar, he was his father’s friend after all. He wondered about the rest of Sam’s life too, his friends, if he had a boyfriend, if he was dating at all. He almost asked, but decided to save it for another time. 

“I’ll...uhhh let you get going. Probably lots to do to get ready for college,” Dean mumbled. “Shoot me a text when you get there, alright?” 

“Yeah, I will.” Sam gave a tight smile and a nod as his brother climbed into the Impala. Part of him really wanted to just let Dean back into his life, to disregard all the times he’d left Sam feeling alone and scared and betrayed. He needed his brother, needed someone to cling to when things got rough, needed someone to talk to and confide in, and Sam desperately wanted Dean to be that person.

He watched Dean pull away as he climbed behind the wheel of the old Camaro, and let out a breath. If Dean wanted this, he’d make an effort, Sam was sure of that. He started the car and pulled away, heading back towards Bobby’s,trying to clear his mind and force his shoulders to relax as he drove. Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but more than anything else, he was stubborn and when he wanted something, he usually didn’t stop until he had it. Sam hoped this was one of those times, but he wouldn’t let himself hope too much. 

His heart and his brain were strongly opposed, though. Logically, he knew that Dean could very well hurt him again, and Sam wasn’t sure he could handle that right now. It was hard enough dealing with the stress of having to get ready for school in August and spending most of his free time working on cars with Bobby just to keep himself from thinking about Gabriel and the flood of emotions that came with that. 

Not that it worked. 

He still thought of Gabriel every day, still cried himself to sleep some nights as he wondered what the man might be up to. Had he moved on? Was he happy? Was he hurting as much as Sam was? Did he ever really care? Had it all just been a game to him?

The same questions plagued him, running on repeat like some scratched record on a turntable. He’d started to text him several times, but quickly realized how foolish that was. Gabriel hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts in weeks, not since that night, so why would now be any different?

He’d thought about withdrawing from school, maybe trying to get one of the other universities to reconsider him after he’d turned them all down, but it was too late for that. Besides, it wasn’t likely that a freshman like him would have any classes with a grad student like Gabriel. Hell, as big as the campus was, they’d likely never see each other in the year that they were both there. 

But if they did? 

Sam wasn’t sure how that would go, but he did know one thing: after the hell he’d been through in his life, after all the bullshit he’d had to endure, he would be damned if he turned tail like a coward and hid from the man that had so easily broken his battered heart. Maybe, he mused as he turned down Bobby’s driveway, he’d just give Gabriel a piece of his mind. Or maybe he would ignore him as easily as he had ignored every attempt Sam had made to contact him. 

Maybe.


	14. Chapter 14

[ ](https://imgur.com/OyJduxM)

Gabriel preferred campus when it was empty. The rest of the students hadn’t come back yet, and he was left mostly alone with the entire campus as his playground. With the exception of a few scattered freshman orientation groups, Gabriel had seen no one else around. He strolled through the main academic quad, trying to soak up the last bits of silence and solitude before the semester started, but his mind kept drifting to other things. 

Namely Sam. 

Sam would be starting school soon, he was probably already moved into his dorm, paling around with his new roommate and meeting new people. Bobby and Dean had probably driven to wherever he was going, helping him bring up boxes and odds and ends to fill his dorm. He wondered if Sam would adjust quickly to college life, or whether he retreated into himself like he had done when Gabriel pulled away from him the first time. 

Bobby hadn’t called him screaming and despite the fact that Gabriel missed the last week and a half of the semester, Bobby had still given him a glowing review, or at least as glowing as Bobby got. Sam had texted him half a dozen times in the first week, called three times, but slowly after going unanswered, his attempts to contact Gabriel had faded into nothing. It broke Gabriel’s heart into a thousand pieces every time he read them, but he knew it was for the best. 

Thinking about what he had done to Sam made Gabriel feel sick inside, right down to his bones. Sam had no one except him and Bobby, and he had pulled away and broken his promise to Sam, all because of his own weakness. No, Sam deserved someone better than that. 

Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking, trying but failing to push Sam out of his memories. It had been a long lonely summer for him, lost in his own head, re-evaluating his life after what had happened. He was tempted to run away, to transfer to another school for his final year and never come back, but his parents wouldn't hear of it. It was only one year after all. 

It had taken less than a year for him to fall in love with Sam, and simultaneously ruin his life. But then again, after last year, what more harm could he do? Sam was gone, away at whatever college he had chosen, far from Gabriel and out of his reach. There were sometimes when he stared at the picture of Sam from Christmas, wondering what he was doing, but he didn't know if Sam would forgive him, even if he apologized. Gabriel didn't know if he could forgive himself. 

He put his head down and kept walking, trying to ignore the chatter of the group coming his way. 

~~~~  
Sam hadn’t expected the campus to be as large as it was. He knew it was big, but as he looked around at all the buildings, he couldn’t help but think that it was it’s own city. He was going to have a hard time figuring out where everything was, even after taking the tour. He’s already moved all of his things into his dorm, and was actually enjoying having the room to himself until his roommate showed up. So far, there had been no sign of the other freshman, and Sam wondered if he was going to have the room to himself for the year. He wouldn’t complain if that were the case.

He was only half listening to the tour guide as the overly chipper Junior led them around the campus, mentally keeping track of how many times the man had almost tripped as he walked backwards in order to look at the group. He was primarily focused on taking in the buildings and the gardens and the scattered works of art and architecture students displayed on various lawns. 

One piece in particular caught his eye, and he paused, taking in the whole of the abstract sculpture. He glanced over at the tour guide and asked, louder than he normally would have to be heard over the din of chatter, “What’s this supposed to be?”

Gabriel froze. There was no way… Could it be…? 

He looked up, looking around wildly for the source of that voice. There was only a freshman group in his vicinity, and it didn’t take him very long to find him, not with how tall he’d gotten in the past year. There was no way he could fail to recognise him. 

Sam. Sam was here, standing less that twenty feet from him. Gabriel couldn’t breathe. Sam had been accepted into so many good schools, and instead he’d chosen the one he knew Gabriel attended. There was nowhere to hide, he couldn't just run off without causing a scene and a scene would only attract Sam’s attention. If he was lucky, he could put his head down and stroll past the group without anyone noticing. 

He quickly began to walk away, but he was never the lucky sort. 

Garth, who was leading the tour, spotted him. “Hey Gabriel!” he said cheerfully, waving at him. Slowly but surely, all of the freshman turned and looked at him, including Sam. Their eyes connected for a moment, before Gabriel broke the contact, staring down at his feet. 

“Uhhh hey Garth,” Gabriel stammered. “I--uh.. hey would you look at the time? I’m late. See you later!” 

Any plan he had had flew completely out the window as soon as Garth had spotted him. Sam saw him, knew he was here, and there was nothing he could do about it. He might as well make a run for it. 

Without a backward glance, Gabriel sped up, practically running away, before ducking around the edge of the building and collapsing against the brick wall. God, he was a stupid spineless coward, he berated himself, curled against the back wall like a scared animal, his head cradled between his hands. He’d been thinking for months about what he’d say to Sam if he ever saw him again, and when the time finally came, he ran away like he always did. 

Sam must hate him for what he’d done. He’d broken his promise, ignored Sam’s attempts to contact him for months, and now he’d ran away from him. Sam would be within his rights to track Gabriel down and give him a piece of his mind, and Gabriel had no defense. He could imagine Bobby marching up to the school and making good on the promise that he’d made when Gabriel confessed that Sam had kissed him. There’d be nothing left of him. 

It was too late for Gabriel to transfer, so he started making plans on how to not be spotted again. He didn’t have to go to parties, could come right home after class, find less used routes to get to the buildings he needed. He was going to stay out of Sam’s way as much as he was able, he at least owed him that much. 

Sam had known that seeing those whiskey eyes and golden curls again would hurt, but they hadn't been nearly as painful as the look Gabriel had given him. He hated him, and really Sam couldn't blame him. Not after what he had done. He was an ugly person deep down and Gabriel knew that now. Sam would run from himself if he could.

That look though, Sam bit at his bottom lip as he stared after Gabriel. He was tempted to follow him, but he didn't even know what he would do or say. He wanted to yell at the man, to give a voice to all the anger and the hurt and the pain, but this wasn't the time or place for that. 

He needed to see him though, he needed to know if Gabriel was at least happy now that he was free of Sam and the baggage that came with him. He didn't even realize he was walking away from the group until the chatter vanished and he was left with only the sounds of birds and the low hum of the HVAC of the buildings around him. 

“G-Gabe?” His voice was weak, trembling as he rounded the corner and found the man he'd spent months trying not to think about. “I...uhm...I just want to...to um...to apologize.”

He couldn't bring himself to look at him, instead keeping his eyes focused on the cracks in the sidewalk below their feet. It wasn't what he'd been wanting to say, and he didn't sound nearly as confident as he'd wanted to, but at least he'd said something. 

Gabriel looked up from his position on the ground, slowly standing up. If Sam was going to pummel him into next week, which he would deserve, he at least wanted to be on his feet. But what came out of Sam’s mouth wasn’t anger, it was an apology. 

“You don’t owe me an apology, Sam,” Gabriel began. “If anything, I’m the one who should be begging your forgiveness. I broke my promise to you, and I ran away like a coward instead of being a man about it and explaining why I did it.” 

Sam wasn’t looking at him, and that gave Gabriel a moment to look without being seen. Sam had kept getting bigger in the months they hadn’t seen each other, and his shoulders had broadened, he’d put on muscle and even his voice sounded different from the one that had haunted Gabriel in his dreams for the past few months. Despite his defeated posture, he seemed less afraid of his own shadow, but his gaunt face told him that he’d been having as much of a difficult time of this as Gabriel was. 

“I didn’t leave because of you, Sammy,” he explained. “I left because of me. Because I couldn’t trust myself around you anymore. Your father was right about me, about what I am, and you deserve better than that. I had feelings for you almost as soon as I met you, and I should have walked away then, but I couldn’t.” Gabriel swallowed hard. “I understand that what I did was wrong, and you should hate me for all of it. You deserve someone who’s better than me.” 

Gabriel sighed, willing Sam to look at him, even for one second. The feelings he’d tried to push away came back with a vengeance in Sam’s presence and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground on the spot. “I’ll stay out of your way.” 

Sam looked up at hearing Gabriel liken himself to John. How could he ever think that he was even remotely similar to the man? Had Sam done something to let Gabriel believe something so awful? Had he said something in passing that he shouldn’t have? He couldn’t recall.

“What?” He shook his head as he stared at Gabriel in disbelief. “How could you...why would you ever think that? You’re nothing like him, and if anyone can attest to that, it’s me. That man made my life hell. You…”

Sam let out a shaky breath before continuing, “You saved me, Gabe. I’d be dead without you. Hell, I am dead without you.”

Sam stepped away, trying to give Gabriel some space because the man looked like he was close to passing out or being sick, or both. He ran both hands through his hair, tugging at the strands as he let out a frustrated growl. 

“Trust John Winchester to be the reason, though. He just can’t stop ruining my life, can he?” He wanted to find the man and kill him. Turning Gabriel on himself was just that last straw. What gave that man the right to keep taking everything away from him? He took his childhood, he took his money, his time, his innocence, and he damn near took his life. Now, well now he’d taken Gabriel, and Sam wasn’t having it.

“No.” He turned back to Gabriel, his hazel eyes burning with determination as he set his jaw. “Ya know what? Just...no. I’m not accepting that. You’re not him, you’ll never be him, and I’m not letting you stay out of my way.”

“Sam…” Gabriel met his eyes, trying to make him see. “What he said...that I wanted you for myself… it was true. I wanted you then, hell I want you now…” he trailed off, wanting to cringe at the sound of his own voice. “It was wrong of me.” 

Gabriel didn't know why, but in that moment, with Sam standing right in front of him, he wanted to spill everything to him. He wanted to tell him how hopeless he felt without him, how in love with him he was, that he missed talking to him and there were times he saw things that reminded him of Sam and he wanted to tell him only to remember that he couldn't. 

Instead he said nothing, just looked at him, really looked at him. He’d survived a childhood of horrific abuse and heartbreak, and despite all of that, he was still pushing forward, day by day. He was the bravest person that Gabriel had ever known, and he wasn’t a child any longer. Gabriel was doing him a disservice by thinking of him like that. Right now, they were of equal standing. Right now, they were two young men who had been forced apart under cruel circumstance, even if it was of Gabriel’s own making. 

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wanted you, too?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. He huffed and looked down, scuffing the toe of one shoe against the concrete. How was he supposed to fix this? What could he say to make Gabriel understand? “Or that I wanted you to want me? Because I did. Still do, but that’s moot.”

He wasn’t a kid, hadn’t been for a lot longer than Gabriel had known him, so why did everyone still treat him like one? Why did they all assume that his thoughts and his feelings and his desires weren’t valid? He’d always thought that Gabriel of all people understood that and he’d felt, at least until the end, that Gabriel had been the only person to treat him like an equal. Sam guessed he’d been wrong about that. 

He clenched his jaw and screwed his eyes shut to fight the sudden onslaught of emotions that washed over him, his eyes burning with tears he refused to shed. “I just...I need you, Gabe. I tried to make myself think I didn’t, that I was okay, that you leaving me was for the best. I tried to see it as a challenge, and I hoped maybe if I succeeded and could show you that I wasn’t so broken anymore, maybe you’d take me back, because maybe that’s what you wanted, but I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what you want, Gabriel, and I can’t-”

He broke off sharply to bite back a sob, but it came out anyways, sounding harsh and broken.

Gabriel couldn’t take it anymore. He really was the biggest idiot known to man, and he only hoped that he could fix the damage he had done. He didn’t hesitate another second, and pulled Sam into his arms. Gabriel could feel him trembling again him, and the sobs that he was trying to choke down. 

Sam wasn’t a kid, hadn’t been a kid in a very long time. Gabriel had known that before, and had treated him as an equal, it was only when John Winchester got between them that he had started to doubt himself. Gabriel could barely handle one interaction with the man, and Sam had been through years and years of it. 

“No, no, no, kiddo,” he breathed, holding Sam as close as he was able. He’d messed this up royally, and it was a small wonder that Sam still wanted him at all after how Gabriel had treated him. For the second time in all the time they’d known each other, he’d let Sam down, he’d pulled away from him when Sam needed him most. There were no more hurdles between them anymore, no more restrictions, and Gabriel wasn’t going to let Sam down anymore. 

“Shhhhhh,” Gabriel said again, kissing Sam’s head. “I want you, Sammy. I never stopped wanting you , broken and all. I know I fucked up, but I swear I’ll spend the rest of however long you want me making it up to you,” He leaned his forehead against Sam’s. “If you’ll have me.” 

Sam wanted to pull away. Gabriel had hurt him, even after promising he never would, and Sam wanted to punish him for that, but he just couldn’t do it. With Gabriel’s arms around him, his warmth wrapping around Sam like a blanket and his scent filling every sense that he had, Sam just couldn’t. He gave in, instead, pressing his face into the crook of Gabriel’s neck and breathing him in. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man as tightly as he dared, still afraid that Gabriel would run again. 

“Please don’t leave me like that again.” He whispered, his voice muffled as he spoke into Gabriel’s hair. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Sammy,” Gabriel told him, rubbing his back in soothing circles. “As long as you want me here, I’ll be here.” He almost promised him, but he knew his words held no weight after he'd broken his promise to him before. They'd have to work back up to it. Gabriel was more than willing to make the effort. 

Sam was worth it. 

Sam pulled away, scrubbing at his tear stained cheeks with the back of one hand. He looked down into Gabriel’s eyes, searching for any indication that Gabriel wasn’t being honest. All he saw was warm honey and pain. Gabriel was hurting just as much as he was. Sam briefly thought it was deserved after everything that had happened, but he couldn’t hold any of that against Gabriel anymore than Gabriel held any of it against him. They’d both made mistakes, they’d both crossed lines, but none of that mattered now. 

Now, they were just two college students, both adults, without restriction. The corners of Sam’s lips tugged upwards into a watery grin. No restrictions, he repeated over and over in his head. When Gabriel’s gaze turned questioning, Sam just shook his head and chuckled lightly before crashing his lips against Gabriel’s. It wasn’t graceful, or perfect. Noses bumped and teeth clanked together almost painfully. Sam threaded his fingers through the curls on either side of Gabriel’s head, tugging at them to hold the man close.

He refused to pull away until his lungs began to ache from lack of oxygen, and even then he didn’t let Gabriel go. He pressed his forehead to the smaller man’s as he panted softly. 

Gabriel barely caught his breath before he was diving in again. He pressed against Sam tightly, nipping at his lips as he pulled him down so he could reach him. Months of feelings that had been locked away escaped him now, bursting forth from him in a torrent. His hands were on Sam’s neck, pulling him in closer. He couldn’t help himself anymore, he slipped his tongue between Sam’s lips, tasting him for the first time. 

Gabriel felt like he was drowning, but he was happy to be swept away by the current. All the longing and hopelessness he’d been feeling since June were gone in that instant, replaced by feelings of warmth and love. He knew that this didn’t mean he was forgiven but the fact that Sam still wanted to kiss him after all that had transpired between them was a good sign in his book. 

It wasn’t until he heard a cat-call from the quad that Gabriel realized they were still standing in public, in full view of anyone who just so happened to be walking by. Gabriel broke away from Sam with a hot red flush, and ran a hand through his hair. 

“You uhhhh wanna go somewhere?” 

Sam nodded numbly as he looked around in a daze. He’d been so caught up, he had forgotten where they were, and now he could feel the heat of his embarrassment as it crept up his neck and across his face. “Y-yeah. Sure.”

He followed Gabriel, not really paying attention to where the man was leading him. He thought maybe they could go back to his dorm, but there was a chance his roommate may have shown up since he’d left. That really only left Gabriel’s apartment just off campus, and really, Sam was fine with that. It was familiar ground at least. 

“You know,” he began as they hurried past buildings and people, reaching out to grasp one of Gabriel’s hands in his own, “I had this whole big thing planned, a surprise kinda, after graduation. I was gonna tell you about this,” he vaguely gestured to the campus around them.

He’d had more planned for that night, but he hadn’t thought about it since Gabriel had walked away. Now, it didn’t seem to matter. Things were heading in that direction anyways and at least now he couldn’t be nervous, overthinking every detail and making sure everything was perfect.

Gabriel squeezed Sam’s hand, smiling even as his heart was thudding in his chest. He hadn't let his mind stray this far before, it was too dangerous for him to entertain those kind of thoughts while so much as still uncertain. Gabriel tried to be calm, but inside he was a wreck. He hadn’t been prepared for this, hell he hadn't’ been prepared for the far-fetched possibility that Sam could be here. He definitely hadn’t planned for what came after. He could barely think straight with Sam this close to him, holding his hand tightly. 

“Yeah?” he said, trying not to look over eager. “I know I kinda… ruined that, but you could tell me about it?” 

He really hoped that Sam had picked this school because of its law program and not just because Gabriel was here. But knowing Sam, and knowing how singularly focused he was on becoming a lawyer, Gabriel’s contribution was only a miniscule part. Sam was going to do great here, regardless of whether Gabriel was here or not. 

“I had a plan too, but it was nothing elaborate. Just taking you out to dinner, and mini-golf. A real date, kind of seems lame now.” 

“I’d love to tell you about it...when I can think straight enough to really remember all the details.” He grinned boyishly and laughed. He’d wanted to tell Gabriel about his school choice for months, ever since he’d gotten his acceptance letter in the mail, but he’d decided to make a grand show of things instead. It wasn’t Harvard, or Stanford, but it had an outstanding pre-law program and it had the one thing no other place could, Gabriel. 

He could feel the butterflies swarm in his stomach as they neared Gabriel’s door, and as he waited, impatiently tapping his foot, for Gabriel to open the door, the swarm turned into angry bees. 

He barely gave Gabriel time to step inside before he was following him in and practically slamming the door shut behind them. He didn’t know what was happening, not entirely, but he wasn’t going to fight it after waiting so long to even get the chance to have Gabriel to himself. He pounced, pulling Gabriel to him again and crashing their lips together again. God, he tasted good, Sam mused as Gabriel’s tongue swiped over his lips and he more than willingly let him in. 

He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of the way the man smelled or tasted or felt against him. 

Gabriel hummed happily against Sam’s lips, his hands going around his waist to pull him closer. As much as he loved just standing kissing Sam, the height difference made it difficult and awkward to stay in this position for very long. For a moment, Gabriel debated pulling Sam down onto his couch, but it wasn’t very big, and Sam easily took up most of it. 

Careful not to break the kiss, Gabriel slowly maneuvered Sam towards the back of the living room, towards his bedroom door. He extracted his hand from Sam’s waist and pushed the door open, mentally kicking himself for not cleaning. His room was a complete mess, with clothing and books all over the floor. His bed wasn’t in a much better state. He hadn’t made it before he left the house, and the sheets on it , even though they were his favorite, were worn and wrinkled. Hardly a place to bring someone as special to him as Sam, but he didn’t think Sam would care either way. 

Gabriel sat down on his bed, pulling Sam down with him. The angle was better with both of them sitting, and Gabriel took advantage of it, his hands trailing up Sam’s body into his hair. He’d always wanted to know what Sam’s hair felt like, and he relished it, twirling it between his fingers. 

“You can tell me to stop at any time, Sammy,” he breathed, breaking away from him momentarily. “Just give me the word.” 

“If you stop,” Sam huffed as he reached down to slip one hand beneath Gabriel’s shirt, “I’ll have to kill you.”

He gave Gabriel a teasing grin and a wink, pulling away just enough to tug his shirt up and off of his body. He hadn’t known he’d been missing this these past few months. He ran his fingertips over the skin of Gabriel’s stomach, sides, and chest, mapping him as best he could with the overwhelming sense of urgency creeping through his veins. 

“You,” Sam pressed a kiss to the corner of Gabriel’s lips, “are perfect. Just like I dreamed.”

He could feel the heat that always seemed to radiate from the man, and he relished it as it seeped into his own body. He’d felt so unyieldingly cold since he’d walked away from the fight with his father, since Gabriel had walked away from him, and he’d begun to wonder if he’d ever be warm again. 

Gabriel couldn’t help the flush that flamed over his cheeks at Sam’s words. No one had ever told him he was perfect before, and he’d been with several people. He knew he wasn’t a catch, he was shorter than average, and pudgy. He wanted to protest, but he thought it would be better for now to swallow his words and just enjoy what was in front of him. 

He reached for the bottom button of Sam’s shirt, and pulled back far enough to look into Sam’s eyes, as if asking permission to go farther. He didn’t want to accidently push Sam’s boundaries, but Sam nodded, and Gabriel took off his shirt, button by button before slipping it off his shoulders. Sam wasn’t the skinny underfed boy he was when they first met any longer. He’d gained height and weight, had filled out in all the right places. Gabriel touched him reverently, running his fingers down his chest, his nipples, his belly. He was gorgeous. 

Gabriel laid back on the bed, pulling Sam down over him with a laugh. “Jesus, kiddo,” he grinned at him, leaning up to suck open mouthed kisses into the column of his neck and down his collarbone. “You’re practically a greek god.”

Sam didn’t bother to bite back his moans at Gabriel’s attentions. Everywhere the man touched or kissed or licked felt as if it had been set on fire, and the burn was consuming him entirely. No one had ever touched him like that, or made him feel this way, and he thought maybe he should be afraid. The rush of need and emotion and heat was terrifyingly new to him. He trusted Gabriel though, despite everything that had happened between them, and at least in this regard, he knew Gabriel would never hurt him. 

He shook his head slightly, wanting to argue Gabriel’s claim, but the words disappeared as soon as he opened his mouth to speak them. Fuck it, he thought as he let his head fall to the side to give Gabriel more access to his neck. If he wanted to believe that Sam was a greek god, who was he to stop him?

With ease, Sam flipped them, leaving Gabriel to straddle his hips as his lips continued to assault the sensitive skin of his neck and chest. His hands rested against Gabriel’s thighs, kneading them through his jeans, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, more skin, more contact, more kisses, more fire, just more everything. 

“G-Gabe…” He broke off with another moan as the man’s teeth scraped over his collarbone, “Gabe, need more...please.” 

The noises Sam was making were a symphony for Gabriel’s ears. Sam was unrestrained in his pleasure, and Gabriel drank in every sound like a fine wine. For the past few months, he thought he'd never hear Sam’s voice again, and now he gorged on it, trying with each kiss and nip to draw a new, more satisfying sound from him. 

He ghosted over Sam’s pectoral muscle, giving his nipple little kitten licks, watching Sam’s face for any indication he wanted him to stop, but Sam looked like he was in heaven. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back pillowed by the dark halo of his hair. His lips were plump and just a bit swollen and if Gabriel hadn't been so addicted to what he was doing now, he would have moved back up to capture them again. 

“Anything you want,” Gabriel told him, kissing down the hard plane of his belly. He teasingly dipped his tongue into his navel, trailing saliva down the trail of hair that started there until he got to the waistband of his jeans. 

He took a deep breath and kissed over his jeans, gently mouthing at the hardness underneath them. 

“What do you want Sam?” 

Sam was having trouble thinking. Everything was overwhelmingly amazing and his body was beginning to feel as if it were buzzing. He looked down at Gabriel, panting softly as he watched the man move lower and lower along his body, never ceasing his ministrations. Not that Sam wanted to. He was fairly confident that if Gabriel stopped, he might just make good on his early teasing threat of killing the man. 

At Gabriel’s question, he floundered. How was he supposed to tell the man what he wanted when he wasn’t even sure of it himself? What if he messed up? What if Gabriel laughed at him? What if he walked away or told Sam to leave? The pleasure he’d been feeling was suddenly overshadowed by an oppressive sense of anxiety. 

“I-I don’t...I want...uhmmm...I…”he stammered, his cheeks flushing for an entirely different reason than before. He bit his lip and turned his eyes towards the ceiling, afraid of the look of annoyance, or frustration, or disappointment he was certain was radiating in those honey eyes he’d dreamed so much about. 

Gabriel stopped. He kissed his way back up Sam’s body, trailing his hands up Sam’s ribs until he reached his face again. He kissed him once, twice, three times before he spoke, cupping Sam’s cheek against his palm. 

“It's alright, Sammy,” he told him, kissing him sweetly on the nose. “I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I just want to make you feel good,” he said, rolling his hips over Sam’s gently. “That's all. Don't stress about it, kiddo. If it stops feeling good, or you don't like something, just tap on my shoulder and I'll stop, okay?” 

He kissed him again on the lips before resuming his prior position. Watching Sam’s face carefully, he popped the button on his jeans, and unzipped his fly. Slowly, he pulled Sam’s jeans off his hips and down his legs, exposing the blue cotton of his boxers. Staring intently at Sam’s face, Gabriel licked his lips and kissed Sam’s length through the fabric, enjoying the shiver that went through Sam’s body as he did it, and the obscene bloom of pre-come staining the fabric darker blue. 

When Sam didn't tap his shoulder or tell him to stop, Gabriel kept going, nipping at him lightly. Sam wasn't small by any stretch and he was fully hard under Gabriel’s hands. Gabriel gingerly slid his hand under the waistband of his shorts, feeling the softness of his skin as he wrapped a hand around him, and pulled him out, kissing the head lightly. 

Sam had to bite at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from screaming. He could have sworn that thousands of tiny jolts of electricity were being shot through his body. It was an overwhelmingly incredible and frightening feeling, but he didn’t want it to end. His head fell back against the pillow as his hips jerked up, and a blush bloomed across his cheeks. He had never felt like this before, hadn’t really known anything could feel like this really, and he could only pray that he lasted long enough.

“Fffuck…” he hissed as he turned his head, shoving his face into his pillow. He breathed in deeply, letting Gabriel’s scent wash over him and fill him up, hoping that the act would help him to calm down. It only amplified the sensations that coursed through him. His hands fisted in the sheets as Gabriel’s lips pressed against his tip again, his hips jerking up of their own accord. He groaned lowly, tilting his head to watch Gabriel. 

“You’re gonna kill me if you keep doing that.” He muttered, his body trembling slightly from the shockwaves of pleasure. 

Gabriel arched an eyebrow and with a devilish look repeated the action over and over again. He loved that Sam was coming apart and he’d barely touched him. Finally he swallowed him whole, trying to get as much of his length into his mouth as he was able. He covered the rest with his hands, squeezing the base of Sam’s cock as he moved slowly over him. He didn’t want him to come too soon, but at the same time, Sam was younger and they could probably go for round two. Not that he wanted to assume there would be one, but he didn’t want to rush Sam either. Gabriel was more than happy to go here and no farther. 

Gabriel bobbed slowly up and down Sam’s cock, stopping every so often to lick and suck on the tip, and kiss down his shaft, showering every inch of him with attention. Gabriel watched Sam intently, vigilant for any sign Sam wanted to stop. He hoped Sam would actually tell him if he did, instead of just going along with what he thought Gabriel wanted. 

He pulled off and looked up at him, drinking in the sight of Sam completely wrecked. His pupils were blown so wide that Gabriel almost couldn’t see the hazel of them anymore, and his bottom lip was pink from where he had been worrying it with his teeth. 

“Still good?” 

Sam could only nod vigorously in reply, too drunk from the rush of emotions and pleasure to form any sort of coherent verbal response. Good? Good was a gross understatement of how he felt. Amazing. Fantastic. Blissfull. All of these still fell shy, he was certain. His mind buzzed and his skin prickled with heat. 

“‘Mere,” he managed, reaching down to try and pull Gabriel up to him. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed Gabriel’s lips on his. Since the man had kissed him, truly kissed him, he felt it, like a man dying of thirst getting a sip of water. He tugged Gabriel up and into a hard, heated kiss, not caring that it was sloppy or needy. 

He was needy. Very needy. He needed Gabriel like he needed water or oxygen. “Need you,” he whispered between kisses, nipping lightly at Gabriel’s lips with each syllable. “Need you.”

Gabriel voiced no objections as Sam hauled him up and against him. He kind of liked the way Sam easily manhandled him, using his strength to put Gabriel exactly where he wanted him. It was all sorts of hot he didn't have the brainpower to comprehend in his current predicament. All he knew was that right now, he needed Sam just as much as Sam needed him. 

“You got me, Sammy,” he rasped out when Sam finally pulled away, gulping down hearty breaths of cool air. He wanted to keep kissing him, but he needed to take his pants off, needed to put them on even footing. Sam was completely exposed to him now, and Gabriel didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. 

As carefully as he could, Gabriel climbed off Sam’s lap and dropped trou, hating himself for blushing as he did it. He wasn’t what most people dreamed of, and he’d always been self-conscious of his body, regardless of who he was sleeping with. He hoped that Sam wasn’t disappointed, that he didn’t regret his choice to want to be with Gabriel. Gabriel wouldn’t blame him though, he wouldn’t be with first. 

Trying to swallow a new wave of self-loathing, he scrambled back onto the bed, his face a flaming red color. 

Sam wanted to protest when Gabriel pulled away, fear creeping up inside him alongside the idea that Gabriel was going to back out, tell him to leave, tell him it was all a mistake. He swallowed hard against the knot that had formed in his chest at the idea, forcing himself to relax as Gabriel undressed and joined him once again. He wasn’t leaving, wasn’t rejecting him again, and Sam forced a smile around the bitter taste of anxiety in the back of his throat. 

He didn’t miss the flush that covered Gabriel’s cheeks, neck, and chest. He was pale and the heat of his self-conscious embarrassment stood out starkly on him. He didn’t miss the look of discomfort in Gabriel’s honey eyes, either. He knew that look, saw it in the mirror often enough, and he hated the idea that Gabriel could possibly feel that way about himself. ‘Pot meet kettle,’ he thought wryly in a moment of lucidity. 

Without hesitation, Sam pulled Gabriel back down into a kiss, rolling them so that his body was partially covering Gabriel’s. Bracing his weight on one forearm, Sam kissed Gabriel soundly before moving down, peppering his jaw, neck, and chest with kisses, licks, and nips. It had felt amazing when Gabriel had done it to him, so he assumed returning the favor wouldn’t go amiss. He glanced up from beneath his lashes as he wrapped his lips around one dusky nipple, watching for any sign that Gabriel wasn’t enjoying it. 

Gabriel keened under him, transfixed by the sight of Sam bent over his chest. He was a quick study, Gabriel could give him that, as Sam licked at his nipple. Gabriel shivered as bolts of pleasure crashed through him. He’d always been sensitive there, but the anticipation coupled with the fact that it was Sam had him squirming at the slightest touch. Gabriel couldn’t help watching Sam intently, taking in each second as Sam lavished him with affection. 

Gabriel held his breath as Sam dipped lower, lips moving along his skin, sending goose bumps up his arms and legs. He’d be lying if he said his thoughts hadn’t strayed down this path once or twice, but he hadn’t allowed himself to think about it detail, afraid it might make things harder for both of them. 

“Jesus…” Gabriel moaned, as Sam kissed across his chest, hot breath ghosting over Gabriel’s suddenly sensitive skin. “Fuckk…. Sammy, that feels so good,” he told him, hoping that his truthful praised would help ease some of the nervousness Sam was bound to be feeling. Hell, Gabriel was nervous and he’d done this before. He could only imagine what Sam was going through. 

“More, Please,’ he begged, bucking upwards as he felt the scrap of Sam’s teeth. “Want you, kiddo.” 

Sam hummed against his skin, drinking in the praises Gabriel rained down on him. He’d probably never say it to any other than the man beneath him, but having Gabriel of all people tell him he was doing something right or well was fuel for the flame that burned in his chest. He craved it, needed it really. He figured it came from years of being told how much of a failure he was. 

He moved slowly downwards, leaving a trail of kisses and tiny red bite marks as he went. He wanted to worship the man beneath him, to show him just how special and important he was, and to let him know how much he loved him. He paused, glancing up at Gabriel from beneath his lashes and the mop of hair that had fallen into his eyes, and grinned before swirling his tongue around his navel. The sound Gabriel made egged him on, and he repeated the action, watching in awe as Gabriel’s face shifted between pleasure and something close to laughter. Sam was suddenly reminded of just how ticklish the man was. 

WIth a devious smirk, he ran his tongue over Gabriel’s stomach to his right hip and gave a playful nip at the thin skin there. 

“More what?” Sam asked innocently as he ran his tongue across the supple skin of Gabriel’s abdomen to his left hip and gave another nip. “I’m new to this, remember?”

Gabriel groaned. Sam was going to be the death of him yet, with his big innocent eyes and his wicked, wicked tongue. He was already putty in Sam's hands and he had barely touched him, he could only imagine what would happen when they went further. On second thought, even the merest inkling of that had him throbbing almost painfully against his stomach. 

“More of anything,” Gabriel moaned. “More of everything.” 

Gabriel liked to think he was good in bed, he’d never been told otherwise, but he was suddenly very nervous about how he was going to be for Sam. Sam didn’t know any better, but there was always pressure in being someone’s first, and he felt it acutely. Sam continued and Gabriel could have cum from just the feeling of Sam’s lips against his skin and nothing more. Even so, he felt himself growing impatient, wanting more every second. 

He forced himself to stay still, steeled his muscles against the urge of his body to thrust forward for more friction. After all Sam had been through, the last thing Gabriel wanted to do was scare him or traumatize him anymore. They would go at Sam’s pace and no faster. He could wait. 

Sam bit at his lip as he inched his way further down Gabriel’s body. Timidly, he ran the tips of his fingers along the underside of Gabriel’s shaft, following the blue line of the vein there. He’d been teasing to stall, really, because this terrified him. What if he was bad at it? What if he was so bad that Gabriel kicked him out? Or laughed at him? He swallowed the lump in that was forming in his throat and leaned down, swiping his tongue over the tip and licking up the pre-cum that had beaded there. 

It didn’t taste as bad as Sam had thought it might. It was salty, slightly bitter, and the texture made him scrunch his nose a bit, but he was certain he could get used to it if nothing else. He ran his tongue over the tip again, then wrapped his lips around the head and sucked lightly. It had felt good when Gabriel had done it, and he just hoped he managed to return the favor and make it somewhat pleasurable. 

Gabriel bit his lip as a wrecked moan tried to claw its way out of his throat. Sam’s mouth wrapped around the head of his cock felt so much better than it had any right to, and the sight of him doing it, all long lashes and luscious lips, wasn't far behind in his estimation. Gabriel took a rapid breath, trying to keep control of his faculties as all his blood rushed south. His hips gave an involuntary jerk, and Gabriel stiffened. 

“Fuck Sammy,” he mewled, rising up onto his elbows to get a better look at what was happening. Below him, Sam was a work of art, his hair completely wrecked, his eyes closed. “ Fuck, that feels amazing. You’re doing so good, baby.”

In his current state, he was surprised he could string a sentence of that length together. Heat poured from him as Sam went further, feeling as if any second he might combust with the intensity of it all. He didn't think it had ever felt this good before. 

Sam would have purred if he could have, preening under Gabriel’s praise like a kitten. He moved further down, swallowing as much of Gabriel’s length as he could, and almost choked as the tip hit the back of his throat and he gagged. He pulled back, sputtering softly as tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, then he swallowed him down again. He moved slower this time, being sure to keep himself from choking again. He bobbed his head slowly, finding a steady rhythm. 

His fingers dug into Gabriel’s hips and backside, kneading at the soft flesh. Feeling a bit brave from all the praise, he moved one hand down to cup Gabriel’s balls, gently squeezing them and rolling them between his fingers. He didn’t have much to go on here, beyond what he knew felt good for himself, but he figured it was worth a shot. 

After a few minutes he pulled away, giving one last lick to the tip of Gabriel’s cock, and moved back up to capture his lips in a heady kiss. 

“Tell me what to do,” He whispered as he kissed a trail from Gabriel’s lips to nip at his earlobe. He was almost begging, unsure of how to proceed, and he struggled to keep it from bothering him. He trusted Gabriel to guide him, though, moreso that he doubted himself.

Gabriel could barely breath. Even though Sam was new to this, it still felt incredible and Gabriel knew that it would only get better as Sam learned and got more experience. It took all the strength he had not to buck forward into the heat of Sam’s welcoming mouth. He was so turned on he could scarcely think straight. 

He could barely get words out. “You,” he swallowed, wetting his lips. “You… have to prep me,” he said, his face turning an even darker shade of red than it already was. “There are condoms and lube in my side table.” 

Gabriel pulled Sam down to kiss him again, wanting to feel his lips again. “You're doing great, Sammy,” he whispered when he finally broke away. “You're doing so good.” 

He debated the next part but he wanted Sam to feel comfortable. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, holding Sam close. “We can wait, if you want. I won't be disappointed.” He kissed him again, not letting him go until he answered his question. 

“I’ve been sure,” Sam hummed against his lips, confident in his actions for the first time since their eyes had met across the courtyard. He pecked Gabriel on the lips, a grin dancing over his lips when he pulled back and shifted to the side to dig through the nightstand drawer. He pulled his hand out with a triumphant ‘ah-ha!’ and rolled back over to face Gabriel. He glanced at the bottle of lube in his hand then back up to meet those gorgeous whiskey eyes he loved so much.

“Are you?” He asked as he bit his lip. “Sure, I mean. You wouldn’t rather be...uh...on top?”

He winced at his own words. It wasn’t quite the way he’d wanted to say it, and he hoped Gabriel understood what he meant. “I mean...I’m sure you’ve got a lot more experience than me and I just want things to be...not awful?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Gabriel replied honestly. It wasn’t just talk. He loved Sam, he wanted him both in bed and out of it. Despite the hiccups in their relationship so far, he was sure about this. He would be around as long as Sam wanted him, however long that was. Sam deserved the world, and Gabriel was going to do everything in his power to make sure he got it. 

“It would never be awful,” Gabriel continued, putting his hand against Sam’s cheek. “It’s you. Anything with you could never be awful,” he reassured him. He knew Sam was nervous because it was his first time, but Gabriel was nervous too. It was the first time that had ever really mattered to him and he wanted it to be good, just like Sam did. 

“Besides… I wouldn’t say…a lot of experience,” Gabriel blushed a hot red. He had had sex with girls more than he’d had sex with boys, and he’d always bottomed with them. But if Sam wanted him to top, he would do it. “It’s up to you, whatever makes you more comfortable.” 

In truth, after what Sam had been through, he didn’t want Sam to be reminded of that. 

“O-okay.” Sam nodded, leaning into Gabriel’s touch. He turned his head just enough to press a kiss to Gabriel’s palm. “I don’t mind. I’ll do it if you want me to. Just don’t hold it against me if it really is awful.”

He laughed, somewhat awkwardly, and leaned forward to kiss Gabriel on the lips again. He was just buying himself some time, trying to force down the anxiety and nerves that had crept up on him. He took a steadying breath and pushed himself up onto his knees. Sam opened the bottle, pouring some into his palm and sat the bottle aside. He smeared his fingers through it and had to stop himself from making a face at the consistency. It was odd, almost like oil, but not really, and it was cold.

“Weird,” he muttered as he set about warming it up as best he could. He didn’t imagine it would feel pleasant cold. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done some research. Before Gabriel had disappeared, Sam had been making plans for the two of them for the night of his graduation. Not wanting to muddle things up too horribly, he’d watched several less than appropriate videos while Bobby had been out, but still he felt entirely unprepared for it all. ‘Hands on is the best experience,’ he thought wryly as he moved to kneel between Gabriel’s thighs once again. 

He glanced up at Gabriel, looking for any sign that this wasn’t what he wanted. When he didn’t find anything more than heat and desire staring back at him, he began to work one slickened finger inside him.

Gabriel couldn’t help the groan that tumbled from his lips as Sam pushed one long finger inside of him. Sam had beautiful hands, Gabriel had always thought so, tapered clever fingers, with callouses on the palm, strong wrists. One finger felt amazing, but if they wanted to go further, it just wasn't going to do it for him. 

“Please,” Gabriel rasped, pushing back hard on Sam’s finger, moaning when it brushed his prostate. “Please Sammy,” he begged. “Want more, more please. Won’t hurt me.” 

Sam looked unsure and for a moment, Gabriel thought he had gone too far, had pushed him beyond what he was comfortable with, but then he watched as Sam added more lube to his fingers, and gently slid a second one inside of him. 

Gabriel closed his eyes against the intrusion, his mouth hanging open, as he struggled to keep control of himself, to keep himself from unraveling right then and there. He’d touched himself, sure, but having another person touch him was a whole different ballgame.

It had been over a year since Gabriel had had sex with anyone. At first, it was just because he was too busy, too caught up in his teaching placement but after he’d realized his feelings for Sam, it had been because he didn’t want anyone else. No one he’d met had compared to Sam. He didn’t think anyone ever would. 

Gabriel clenched against Sam’s fingers, savoring the stretch and burn. “Y-you’re doing… ahh fuckkk that feels good...great, baby.” 

Sam could feel his cheeks burning as Gabriel’s words washed over him. He wanted to bask in the praise and the fact that he was making Gabriel feel good, but the sounds the man was making were shooting straight through him and into his already hard member. He leaned down, letting his hair cover his face and hide his flushed skin, and began kissing along the inside of one of Gabriel’s thighs. He had to distract himself with something, otherwise he wasn’t sure he’d last long enough to actually do anything. 

A few moments later, he pulled away completely and moved up to capture Gabriel’s lips in a hard, hungry kiss. The man was practically writhing beneath him, and it was just more than Sam could handle. 

“You can still tell me to stop,” he muttered as he fumbled with the foil wrapper in his slickened fingers. “We can still go back to...to what we were.”

He didn’t want to. He never wanted to go back to that, to a life without Gabriel in it, but if Gabriel wanted to back out, to cut his losses, then Sam would do what he had to to make the man happy. Making Gabriel happy was all that mattered to him, and if he was honest with himself, it was all that had mattered for a long time. 

“Don’t you dare,” Gabriel looked up at him. He knew his face was red, sweat swinging to his forehead, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was Sam, now and forever. A life without Sam in it wasn’t worth living. He’d been miserable every day, every hour, every minute without him, and he wasn’t going back if he could help it. 

“I don’t want to go back,” he added, moving to take Sam’s hand in his own, winding his fingers between Sam’s. “I missed you every second I wasn’t with you. I wasn’t really living without you, and I never want to go back to that. Ever.” 

He knew Sam had a hard time accepting praise, that because of what he had suffered he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love or attention. That had been clear to him since the day he’d met Sam. He’d almost driven Sam from his life completely with his own insecurity and stupidity, and he wasn’t about to let him get away again. 

“If you want to stop, that’s fine. I never want you to feel pressured to do something you don’t want to do,” Gabriel told him. “We can just watch movies and order Chinese if that’s what you want to do.” 

Sam shook his head and gave Gabriel a shaky grin. “I’m pretty sure stopping now might kill me.” 

He pulled away just enough to slide the condom on and line himself up, pressing the tip against Gabriel’s entrance. He spread more lube on himself (the last thing he wanted was to hurt the man beneath him in any way) and slowly pressed in. He bit at his bottom lip and forced himself to look into Gabriel’s eyes. He needed to see them, to watch Gabriel’s reaction, to know if he was in pain. 

For Sam, it felt better than anything ever had. Despite the stretching, Gabriel was still tight. ‘And warm and perfect,’ he thought as he slid deeper, moving inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt inside of the man he’d loved for so long. He didn’t dare move though. He was barely holding himself together as it was. He leaned down, resting the majority of his weight on his elbows as he peppered Gabriel’s lips with staccatoed kisses. 

Gabriel held his breath as Sam pushed into him, inch by torturous inch. This was something that he’d known he wanted deep in his subconscious, but never really thought about now, until he had Sam back in his arms. It was never about sex for him, he’d loved him regardless of this element in their relationship, and this only added to what was already there. 

He kept staring into Sam’s eyes, watching his face as he moved slowly inside of him. He wondered vaguely if this was what Sam dreamt about, if it was all that he wanted it to be. Sex rarely if ever worked that way in his limited experience. 

The pain of it was about what he expected. It had been awhile for him, but that hadn’t precluded him from touching himself. Sam was big, larger than any partner he’d ever been with, and he knew he’d be sore when this was all over, but it didn’t seem to matter. Sam was in his arms, Sam was here. Holding Sam again felt like coming home after a long period away. It felt right, despite what his arching muscles were telling him. 

“Move, baby,” Gabriel kissed Sam on his forehead, his nose, his lips. He offered him a smile. “I’m alright, really,” he said. “Just go slow, I’ll be fine.” 

Sam nodded. He pulled out slowly, then pushed back in. He wanted to savor every sensation, but at the same time, it was taking every ounce of willpower he had not to cum then and there. It felt better than he’d imagined it would, not that he would ever admit to having spent much time imagining it. What was even better was that it felt right. He’d spent so long being ashamed of how he felt, refusing to admit that he liked guys more than girls, and he’d spent almost a year convincing himself that what he felt for Gabriel above all others wasn’t right at all. It was amoral. It was just a phase.

It was perfectly right, though. He didn’t think being with anyone else would leave him feeling so shaken so quickly, and he didn’t want to test that theory. 

“Ya know, “ he whispered with a shaky breath as he set a slow, steady pace for them. “I’d planned something like this for that night. After graduation.”

He was blushing, admitting that to Gabriel left him feeling open. Would he laugh? Call him something along the lines of sentimental, or desperate, or needy? Sam couldn’t deny any of them, though. 

Gabriel’s self control was barely hanging on by a thread. Despite the pain, he wanted more. He wanted Sam to take him roughly, to leave his marks on Gabriel’s body, but there would be time for that later. They had all the time in the world now, just the two of them and a lifetime before them, if that was what Sam wanted. Gabriel took a thready breath as Sam brushed against his prostate. 

“You… planned?” Gabriel asked him, quirking an eyebrow. His curiosity got the better how him. He knew he shouldn’t have asked, that Sam was already self-conscious as it was, but Gabriel wanted to know how he’d planned to lose his virginity. 

He kissed Sam, holding him as close as was possible for him to still move. He wanted to know Sam inside and out, wanted to know what was in his head. Gabriel groaned into Sam’s mouth as he thrust forward again, almost completely derailing his train of thought. 

“How?” 

“Bobby was heading off to the lake right after. He and Rufus do it every year just after graduation to unwind and spend the weekend fishing. I thought it would be the perfect time. I was gonna bring you back home, make dinner and dessert, and then I thought, since we were both free, we’d just spend the night in front of the fire.” He was panting softly now, and he could feel the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and rolling down his spine. 

“It was sappy, and cheesy, but it was a plan.” 

Sam huffed as he pulled out again, then he slammed into Gabriel much harder than he had intended to. He was losing control of himself, but he refused to let go. He knew the kind of strength he had now, after beating his father senseless, and he refused to hurt Gabriel by losing his control and letting the monster he was sure lurked inside of him free.

Gabriel cried out, not expecting the power behind Sam’s thrust. It caught him off guard in the best way possible. Pleasure shot through him like a bolt of lightening, leaving his skin tingling and his cock throbbing as it bounced against his belly. 

He wanted more. 

“More,” Gabriel mewled, winding his arms around Sam’s shoulders and using them for leverage. “You’re not going to hurt me, Sam. Please more,” he begged. He trusted Sam, he knew that he wasn’t going to hurt him. 

Gabriel trailed his hands down Sam’s back now, wanting to memorize every inch of his skin. He didn’t think he was ever going to get enough of the feel of Sam against him, inside him. He was never going to stop touching him, he was going to make up lost time for the months they could have had this. 

“Please.” 

Sam couldn’t help but give Gabriel a wary look. He fixed him with a hard look, searching for any sign that Gabriel was covering up pain. He at least knew well enough what that looked like. When he found none, he let out a sigh, shaking his head as he gave the man a grin. Without a word, he picked up his pace, slamming into Gabriel with much more fervor than he had before. If Gabriel wanted him to be rough, who was he to argue? He’d give the man anything if it made him happy.

He shifted his weight, pulling Gabriel’s legs higher around his hips as he allowed some of his weight to rest atop him, pinning him into place, and he kissed him. It was a hard kiss, possessive and hungry. He nipped at Gabriel’s bruised lips as he pulled away for a breath, then trailed nips and bites along his jaw and down his neck. He’d never felt like this before, never wanted to really, but Gabriel didn’t seem to mind and Sam didn’t want to hold back anymore. Not with this. Not with Gabriel. 

Gabriel practically shrieked as Sam slammed into him, clinging to him for dear life. He wasn’t going to last much longer if Sam kept going at the rate he was. If this was how good he was now, Gabriel could only imagine what he was in store for once they’d gotten more comfortable with each other and the relationship. 

“Fuck,” Gabriel moaned, his fingers digging into the meat of Sam’s shoulders. “Fuck, Sammy,” 

He angled his hips, canting them upwards against the force of Sam’s thrusts. His cock bounced against his stomach between them, and he felt each jolt from the pads of his fingers to the tips of his toes. Every cell in his body felt alive in a way he had never felt before, like he was alive, truly alive for the first time in his life. 

He never wanted to let Sam out of his sight, never wanted to be apart from him. “I’m never leaving this bed,” he swore. “I’m never leaving you again.” 

Sam let out a bark of laughter. “You’ll have to leave the bed eventually, but I’m holding you the the never leaving me again bit. Not that I’m ever going to let you go anyways.”

He reached between them, wrapping one hand around Gabriel’s cock, and gave it a stroke. He matched the pace of his hand with the pace of his thrusts, wanting Gabriel to fall apart in his hands before he fell apart inside him. He wanted to watch as he brought the man beneath him to the highest point and he wanted to chase after him as he fell over the edge. 

“Not gonna last much longer, Gabe,” he admitted, thankfully already too flushed from exertion for his embarrassment to color his cheeks. He could feel a tightness in his lower stomach, and jolts of electricity were shooting through his body and out into his limbs with every shift and thrust. He’d never felt so good in his life and he never wanted it to end, all while feeling as if his entire body were about to explode.

“Gunna cum, Sammy,” Gabriel moaned, trying to thrust into Sam’s hand to get more of the delicious friction of it. His self-restraint was slipping through his fingers like water through his cupped palms, and he couldn’t hold on any longer. 

Burying his face in the crook of Sam’s neck, Gabriel came hard over Sam’s palm, his whole body shaking with the intensity of it all. He didn’t think he’d ever felt anything like it, and he knew that it wasn’t because of the sex, but because of the man he was holding in his arms right now. Gabriel intended to be true to his word, he was never letting Sam go. 

“I love you.” 

Hearing Gabriel’s words was all it took for Sam. The tenuous thread he’d been clinging to snapped and he came hard with a loud cry. His thrusts slowed and then stopped as he came down from his high, his body trembling with aftershocks as he pulled out of Gabriel and flopped onto the bed beside him. He was soaked in sweat and sticky with cum, but he didn’t care. He was here, with Gabriel, blissful and exhausted. 

He rolled onto his side after disposing of the well-used condom, and curled around Gabriel’s body. He nuzzled his nose into the crook between Gabriel’s neck and shoulder, taking deep breaths and letting out a low hum as the scent of musk, sweat, and sex overwhelmed him.

“I love you, too, Gabriel. Have since the first day.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Gabriel’s lips as he stifled a yawn. “You know you’re stuck with me now, right?”

He’d meant it to be teasing, but it still came off as an insecure kid asking for validation. He guessed it always would, to a degree.

Gabriel took him in whole, looking deep into his eyes. The frightened boy who he’d met so long ago was no more, leaving behind the man Gabriel loved, tempered by his trials like steel tempered through fire. 

He leaned in and kissed him. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	15. ART

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trailer for "What A Wonderful World This Would Be" by http://i-want-a-dean-sam-castiel-pbj.tumblr.com/

[Trailer for "What A Wonderful World This Would Be" by http://i-want-a-dean-sam-castiel-pbj.tumblr.com](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMgBAY9XQa0&feature=youtu.be)


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